City of Bones (Jace POV)
by kmarie139
Summary: Loved the City of Bones? Reread your favorite parts through the eyes of Jace. Don't forget to review and tell me what part you want to read through the golden eyes of our beloved Jace. Haha
1. Pandemonium

**I do not own any of these characters. Cassandra Clare gets that credit.**

_Ugh, what is taking her so long?_ Jace rolled his eyes. He was waiting with Alex for Isabelle to get the demon alone. Not one of his favorite things, being surrounded by mundanes but it needed to be done. They had a job to do as shadow hunters.

His eyes swept the crowed for any signs of a complication. His eyes caught the glimpse of something red, startlingly so in the faint lights. Staring at a small girl with curly red hair he saw Isabelle in the corner of his eye.

Thinking the girl as no importance, he turned to watch what Isabelle was doing. He could only not look at the girl for so long before his eyes had to flicker back to her again. She was staring intently at something, his eyes followed her gaze.

_What the hell?_ Jace thought, confused. She seemed to be staring right at Isabelle, her eyes flicking between her and the demon. He closed his eyes and shook of the impossible thought. She's a mundane, she couldn't possibly see Isabelle, she was wearing a glamour.

Jace was almost relieved when he saw Isabelle enter a door that said "NO ADMITTANCE." She had the demon at last. Maybe this time they would get some real answers to why these things were suddenly appearing more often.

He looked over at Alec who nodded at him, and Jace winked as they slowly entered the room after them.

Jace was standing in front of the demon, twirling his knife absently in his hand. He was sick of playing games and wanted to get to the fighting. "Isabelle and Alec think I talk too much. Do _you _think I talk too much?"

The demon didn't reply at first then spat out, "I could give you information. I know where Valentine is."

Last week another demon had said this and Jace hadn't thought of it for another second. But this was once again he was hearing about Valentine. He looked back at Alec who just shrugged.

Jace sighed, "Valentine's in the ground." He rolled his eyes. "The thing's just toying with us."

Isabelle strutted past him looking bored and out of patience as she threw her long, black hair behind her shoulder, "Kill it, Jace. It's not going to tell us anything."

She was definitely right. He walked up closer to the blue-haired demon and raised his hand, holding one of his best knives in it, ready to strike.

"Valentine is back! All the Infernal Worlds know it-I know it- I can tell you where he is-" The demon shouted out in a rush, probably trying to save his worthless hide.

This was becoming rather strange, the other monster said practically the same thing.

The hesitation was soon replaced as rage coursed through his body. This was nonsense and he was sick of lies, "By the Angel, every time we capture one of you bastards, you claim you know where Valentine is. Well, we know where he is too. He's in hell. And you-" Jace replied as he spun his knife around threateningly in his hand, "You can _join him there."_

He was about to slice the beast's neck when he heard a shrill voice cry out, "Stop! You can't do this."

Jace whirled around and he was so startled by whoever this voice was coming from, that his knife flew right out of his hand and fell against the hard cold floor. But that surprise was little compared to the feeling that left him speechless as he recognized the figure standing before him.

_It couldn't be_, Jace thought to himself. It was the same girl with red hair he saw in the club. _But how could she…_

The room was mockingly silent for a moment while everyone, as shocked as him, regained composer.

After what seemed like a lifetime of silence, Alec finally spoke, "What's this?"

All other explanations were lost. Jace took a second longer to regain ability to speak because in that moment he knew the girl did see Isabelle in the club. "It's a girl. Surely you've seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one." He finally got out, hoping the wittiness and sarcasm would hide his awe and confusion. He wanted some answers, and he _would _find them out no matter what, but he had a feeling he wasn't getting them now. He took a step closer to her and saw that she was somewhat shaking, scared? "A mundie girl. And she can see us."

The girl rolled her eyes impatiently, "Of course I can see you. I'm not blind, you know."

She had thrown the same wittiness back into his face which was rather unlikely for a typical girl such as herself to do towards someone like him.

"Oh, but you are," Jace replied with a smirk as he bent down to retrieve his knife on the floor by his foot. "You just don't know it. You'd better get out of here, if you know what's good for you."

But he wasn't sure that's what he wanted her to do, surprisingly. Yet, maybe it wasn't so surprising because it would explain how she could see them and he would get some answers on who she was. But was that the real reason he wanted her to stay, for answers?

The small girl stood up straight and put her head up higher before answering, "I'm not going anywhere. If I do, you'll kill him." His eyes flickered to the demon as he realized she was pointing at it. She had clearly seen most of their interaction Was that why she was following them in the first place?

None of it made any sense.

"That's true," Jace answered nonchalantly while he twirled his knife through his fingers. Hoping to finally receive some sort of answer, he asked, "What do you care if I kill him or not?"

The girl looked nervous, "Be-because, you can't just go around killing people."

The only answer he got was that she was clueless on the current situation.

He nodded, "You're right. You can't go around killing _p_eople._" _The he too, pointed to the demon, "That's not a person, little girl. It may look like a person and talk like a person and maybe even bleed like a person. But it's a monster."

"Jace, that's enough," Isabelle said with warning eyes. Yes, she definitely thought he always gave too much away. But for some reason he couldn't help it around this girl.

Finally after a moment the red head moved hesitantly back towards the door, "You're crazy. I've called the police, you know. They'll be here any second."

Jace smirked; he almost wanted the police to barge in the room. The poor girl would look entirely insane, but it would at least keep adding on to this rather amusing night.

Alec frowned slightly, "She's lying." He acted like he was confident, but Jace could still see the doubt in his glance, "Jace, do you-"

But before Alec could finish his comment, the demon boy removed his restraints and flung at Jace. They fell to the ground and Jace felt his head slam against the concrete floor. The demon was trying to rip his way through any part of him with the 4 inch claws on each hand.

And even as he was on the ground, he noticed the small girl tripping over something and falling down herself. He was so distracted that he barely noticed Isabelle screaming and looked up to see the blue-haired boy straddling his chest. A drop of black blood landed on his shirt and Jace glared at the demon.

The demon slashed towards his neck and face and Jace had to protect himself with his arm. The claws caught inside his skin and it splattered some of his own blood now. He looked up to see the demon about to lunge once again when he heard the snap of Isabelle's whip and the cry of the demon who fell to his side.

He moved quickly then. Jace rolled up and sank his knife deep into the monster's chest. As usual he saw the blackish liquid explode on the floor.

Jace grimaced when he stood from some pain in his chest and arm and noticed his shirt was blacker at spots from blood, his and the demons. He reached down and pulled the knife out of the dying demon.

Finally the demon spoke one last thing before dying, "_So be it. The Forsaken will take you all_."

Jace heard the groan that sounded like a snarl escape his lips and he watched as the blue-haired demon vanished into nothingness as he died.

Alec came over and knelt beside him to examine his arm. He turned his head and saw the girl try to run before Isabelle steps forward to block her way.

Isabelle's gold whip flicked out impossibly fast towards the small girl and wrapped around her wrist. He heard her gasp in pain, and an unknown feeling to help her formed inside his mind. He shook his head trying to get the new feeling to disappear.

"Stupid little mundie. You could have gotten Jace killed," Isabelle said with a menacing voice. He started to warn Isabelle to back of but the girl got her response out first.

"He's crazy. You're all crazy. What do you think you are, vigilante killers? The police-"

Standing up, still cradling his sore arm, Jace interrupted, "The police aren't usually interested unless you can produce a body." He started to walk towards the girl and noticed her looking with shock as she also noticed there was no body or blood where the demon had laid. "They return to their home dimensions when they die. In case you were wondering."

"Jace," he heard Alec hiss quietly, warning him, "Be careful."

But he never moved his eyes away from the girl. He wanted to ask her name, to be able to place a name with her face, which was surprisingly beautiful, but not like Isabelle who was just as pretty. This girl didn't flaunt her looks. Hell, she probably didn't even know she had them, which made her ten times prettier.

"She can see us, Alec. She already knows too much."

He saw the girl gulp and he almost smiled. She was scared.

"So what do you want me to do with her?" Isabelle demanded. As if he would let her hurt the girl further. He wanted to talk to her, do something but he needed to speak with Hodge first.

"Let her go," He replied casually.

Isabelle looked at him with a look of up most shock and a hint of her anger. She was smart and let it go, because she knew he would win.

Finally she released the girl from her whip and he watched the girl looking around as if trying to figure out how to escape.

"Maybe we should bring her back with us. I bet Hodge would like to talk to her," Alec suggested. Jace too thought that was a good idea, but something told him "not now" and he knew he could find her if needed.

Isabelle shook her head no, "No way are we bringing her to the Institute. She's a _mundie."_

This girl was special, different. She could see them which hasn't been possible for a mundane in almost a hundred years. She wasn't ordinary, nothing about this girl was. "Or is she?" He replied softly almost more to himself then anyone in the room.

Jace looked her up and down. "Have you had dealings with demons, little girl? Walked with warlocks, talked with the Night Children? Have you-"

The girl frowned and interrupted him which anyone who knew him knew that wasn't a good idea to do, "My name is not 'little girl'. And I have no idea what you're talking about." But she seemed very unsure the moment those words left her mouth, as if she was second guessing her responce. He watched her in awe as she began to speak again, "I don't believe in-in demons, or whatever you-"

All of the sudden they heard a boy's voice, "Clary?"

So that was her name. Clary.

He noticed a bulky mundane following the scrawny looking boy with glasses who spoke. The boy spoke again, "Are you okay? Why are you in here by yourself? What happened to the guys-you know, the ones with the knives?"

Jace smiled, so she had noticed them.

The girl turned around and looked right into his eyes which made his stomach flutter slightly. Her eyes were a deep, clear green that all but sparkled when you looked into them. He clenched the knife still in his hand and grinned at her, giving her what he could manage of an apologetic shrug with his sore arm. He saw in her face that she realized in that moment that they had been telling the truth the whole time.

"I thought they went in there. I guess they didn't. I'm sorry" The burly man that had to be a bodyguard looked rather annoyed as he turned away from the room and left and her her friend looked embarrassed.

He smiled at Clary as she turned back to the boy still standing in the door, "It was a mistake." She glanced one more time into his eyes and held his gaze, locking his body, not allowing him to moe or speak. His now half-smirk was frozen as he stared into his eyes. She sighed and walked out with whoever the boy was, breaking Jace out of his frozen stated.

Isabelle giggled, but Jace couldn't seem to forget the girl, Clary.

"Well that was one of our weirder encounters." Said Alex, turning back to look at Jace.

_Yeah, and I have a feeling it's not quiet over._


	2. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

******Writing the first chapter of "City of Bones" in Jace's point of view was more time consuming than I though it'd be so here's what I'm/ you're gonna do (if you want, of course). I won't have time to do the WHOLE book in Jace's point of view so I'll only do parts! Send me a quick review and tell me what part of the book you want to read in his point of view and I'll have it up for you hopefully within the day or the next at the latest! Be fast enough with your suggestions and I will probably be able to have a chapter up everyday! **

**Clock is ticking; Write that review :).**

**xoxoKayla Mariexoxo**


	3. Java Jones, 2nd Encounter

**Sorry for the break in updating but I'm on Spring break now so _hopefully_ I'll get a new segment up everyday.**

** I got a new story up the other day called "Idris Boarding School" and I think its fairly good but since I wrote it I'm partially biased when it comes to that. Check it out please it's another Mortal Instrument Series but it's AU & AH. **

**You already know this but (Disclaimer) I don't own any of the Mortal Instrument characters.**

**Enjoy,**

**xoxoKaylaMariexoxo**

* * *

3

Shadowhunter

Her vibrant red hair and beautiful green eyes clouded my vision as her lips met mine. I close my eyes and leaned in the deepen the kiss.

Jace bolted awake to the sound of yelling floating down the hall. He groaned and stretched before getting up and sliding on a t-shirt. He opened the door leading into the hallway and found that the yelling was coming from the direction of the library.

"What the hell?" He muttered to him and headed toward the voices. Jace didn't hesitate as he reached the big library doors and yanked them open.

The conversation stopped abruptly as Isabelle's, Alec's and Hodge's eyes fell on his disheveled figure but not before he heard what they were arguing about.

"What's up," Jace asked, deciding to play it dumb before pulling his card.

Hodge cleared his throat in an awkward way before speaking what Jace already knew, "We were, uh, discussing the matter of the girl you encountered last night at the club you kids go to."

"Pandemonium? What girl? You got to be more specific, I _encountered _many girls there last night." He smirked but Izzy just rolled his eyes and Alec got a strangely uncomfortable look on his face.

"Uh, I do believe her name was, uh, Clary?" Hodge spoke her name with uncertainty and turned to look at Izzy who nodded her head before continuing. "The young red haired girl who spoke to you directly, obviously being able to see you as well."

"Oh, her." Jace spoke her name with a false sense of boredom and even rolled his eyes for good measure. Alec smiled at that.

"What was she wearing too much clothes for your taste, Jace?" Isabelle retorted with a disgusted look on her taste.

Alec snorted and Jace was about to reply when Hodge intercepted. "Well we were debating the issue on whether or not she should be brought in and, uh, questioned."

"Absolutely not," Izzy exclaimed, starting the argument right where ended. "She's a mudie! She cannot come to the Institute!"

"She could be valuable! Or dangerous! She is a mundane that knows about us, the first one for hundreds of years. We have to talk to her!" Alec stated his argument from last night.

Jace sighed and plopped down on the red chair beside him.

Hodge held up a hand to silence the bickering siblings and they did so immediately.

"Jace, what is your view of the situation?"

"Bring the damn girl in. I must admit I'm rather curious to see what kind of demon she is."

Isabelle scoffed, "You think there's a demon out there we wouldn't recognize?"

Jace shrugged. "No one would recognize you as one so possibly."

Alec laughed and Izzy glared at him. "It's settled then we will go and bring her here."

"We?" Jace questioned. "I hardly think we're all need to bring a puny mundie to the Institute."

"What are you saying? One of us should go alone?" Alec looked at him with disbelief clear on his face.

"Not one of us, me. I'm absolutely bored, I could use some entertainment."

Hodge spoke up, "So you'll go, tonight?"

"Sure thing." Jace tried to keep the anticipation out of his voice but failed. Hodge gave him an odd look. So he wouldn't suspect anything, Jace promptly turned and almost ran out of the library. He had to find Clary as soon as possible.

* * *

First Jace headed to the Pandemonium and was disappointed to find she wasn't there.

After hours of searching Jace was beginning to lose hope. The sky was quickly darkening and street lights were starting to flicker on. He wandered aimlessly back to the Institute barely glancing in shops he passed until a flash of red out the corner of his eye made him stop and look twice.

There she was.

He ran straight for the coffee shop called _Java Jones_ and was about to about walk up to her when he noticed she was with geek mundie from last night and stop.

"Don't look now, but that blond girl over there thinks you're cute," she whispered. Jace smirked and backed up into the closest chair, a worn green one and listened to his reply.

His eyes flicked sideways to stare at the girl, who was industriously studying an issue of Shonen Jump.

"The girl in the orange top?" Clary nodded. The mundie looked dubious. "What makes you think so?"

Clary opened her mouth to reply, and was interrupted by a burst of feedback. Jace winced and covered his  
ears as another mundane, onstage, wrestled with a microphone.

"Sorry about that, guys!" he yelled. "All right. I'm Eric, and this is my homeboy Matt on the drums. My first  
poem is called 'Untitled.'" He screwed up his face as if in pain, and wailed into the mike.

"Come, my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins! Slather every protuberance with arid zeal!"

The geek-boy spoke again, "Please don't tell anyone I know him."

Clary giggled. "Who uses the word loins'?"

"Eric, all his poems have loins in them."

"Turgid is my torment!" The boy onstage continued. "Agony swells within!"

"You bet it does," Clary said. She slid down in the seat next to geek-boy.

"Anyway, about that girl who thinks you're cute-"

"Never mind that for a second, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Furious Mole is not a good name for a band," Clary said immediately.

"Not that, it's about what we were talking about before. About me not having a girlfriend."  
_Now this is the entertainment I was looking for_, Jace thought, laughing.

"Oh." Clary lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Oh, I don't know. Ask Jaida Jones out. She's nice, and she likes you."

"I don't want to ask Jaida Jones out."

"Why not? You don't like smart girls? Still seeking a rockin' bod ?"

"Neither," he said, his voice agitated. "I don't want to ask her out because it wouldn't really be fair to her if I did..."

He trailed off. Clary leaned forward. "Why not?"

_Here it comes._ Jace smirked

"Because I like someone else."

"Okay."

Geek-boy looked faintly greenish. "You're not gay, are you?"

Jace had to crush his fist to his mouth to suppress his laughter.

Simon's greenish color deepened. "If I were, I would dress better."

"So, who is it, then?" Clary asked. By the Angel, she was clueless. Jace couldn't hold it any longer, the mundie looked like he was going to throw up or faint any minute. Jace busted out laughing but managed to cover his laugh slightly with a cough, not well enough apparently because She turned around then and Jace's heart leapt in his chest.

He'd forgotten how beautiful she was. Her gorgeous red hair exploding from the top of her pale face and her emerald green eyes which were now boring into his. The mundie's confused, blank expression reassured Jace that he still couldn't see him. Jace waved at her and smiled in amusement. He got to his feet and walked slowly to the door and heard geek-boy ask her something as he left the coffee shop.

_She would follow, they always do. But she's not like the others. _He shook his head and looked up as the door of the coffee shop fell shut behind her.

"Your friend's poetry is terrible," he said.

Clary blinked and Jace smirked. "What?"

"I said his poetry was terrible. It sounds like he ate a dictionary and started vomiting up words at random."

"I don't care about Eric's poetry. I want to know why you're following me."

"Who said I was following you?"

"Nice try. And you were eavesdropping, too. Do you want to tell me what this is about, or should I just call the police?"

"And tell them what?" Jace said, not hiding the amusement in his voice. "That invisible people are bothering you? Trust me, little girl, the police aren't going to arrest someone they can't see."

"I told you before, my name is not little girl," she said through her teeth. "It's Clary."

"I know," he said. "Pretty name. Like the herb, clary sage. In the old days people thought eating the seeds would let you see the Fair Folk. Did you know that?" He knew she couldn't possibly know this but there was something about this girl that made him want to tell everything.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You don't know much, do you?" Jace said, a little smug but secretly hoping he could be the one to tell her the stories. "You seem to be a mundane like any other mundane, yet you can see me. It's a conundrum." Unless she's a Shadowhunter. The idea sent a jolt of warmth through him and he was really wanting that the be the truth. He wanted her to be part of his world.

"What's a mundane?"

"Someone of the human world. Someone like you." _Or is she?_

"But _you're_ human," she said.

"I am," Jace said "But I'm not like you."

"You think you're better. That's why you were laughing at us."

"I was laughing at you because declarations of love amuse me, especially when unrequited." Jace said. "And because your Simon is one of the most mundane mundanes I've ever encountered. And because Hodge thought you might be dangerous, but if you are, you certainly don't know it."

"_I'm_ dangerous?" she echoed. "I saw you kill someone last night. I saw you drive a knife up under his ribs, and-" She paused.

"I may be a killer," he said, "but I know what I am. Can you say the same?"

"I'm an ordinary human being, just like you said. Who's Hodge?"

"My tutor. And I wouldn't be so quick to brand myself as ordinary, if I were you." Jace leant forward; he had to find out if she was a Shadowhunter. "Let me see your right hand."

"My right hand?" she asked. Jace nodded. "If I show you my hand, will you leave me alone?"

"Certainly." He smiled, _not._

Clary reluctantly held out her right hand and as it made contact with his, his whole hand seemed to burn, but a nice, comfortable burn. It was pale and had a light dusting of freckles to match her hair. He turned it over and examined it. No sign of a rune.

"Nothing." Disappointment seeped into his voice. "You're not left-handed, are you?" Jace asked hopefully.

"No. Why?"

He let go of her hand and shrugged. "Most Shadowhunter children get Marked on their right hands-or left, if they're left handed like I am-when they're still young. It's a permanent rune that lends an extra skill with weapons." He was telling her too much but it felt good, talking to someone about this other than the Lightwoods or Hodge. Jace showed her the back of his left hand where the rune was.

"I don't see anything," she said.

"Let your mind relax," he suggested. "Wait for it to come to you. Like waiting for something to rise to the surface of water."

"You're crazy." She said but she relaxed and gazed at his hand. Suddenly, her eyes widened. "A tattoo?"

Jace smiled smugly. "I thought you could do it. And it's not a tattoo-it's a Mark. They're runes, burned into our skin."

"They make you handle weapons better?" Clary asked her voice full of doubt.

"Different Marks do different things. Some are permanent but the majority vanish when they've been used."

"That's why your arms aren't all inked up today? Even when I concentrate?"

"That's exactly why." Jace said, pleased that he'd taught her something. "I knew you had the Sight, at least." He glanced up at the darkening sky. "It's nearly full dark. We should go."

"_We?_ I thought you were going to leave me alone?"

"I lied." Jace said, slightly giddy that he got to take her with him. "Hodge said I have to bring you to the Institute with me. He wants to talk to you."

"Why would he want to talk to me?"

"Because you know the truth now," he said. "There hasn't been a mundane who knew about us for at least a hundred years."

"About _us?_" she echoed. "You mean people like you. People who believe in demons."

"People who kill them," Jace corrected her. "We're called Shadowhunters. At least, that's what we call ourselves. The Downworlders have less complimentary names for us."

"Downworlders?" she asked. Jace had forgotten that she was new to this.

"The Night Children. Warlocks. The fey. The magical folk of this dimension."

She shook her head. "Don't stop there. I suppose there are also, what, vampires and werewolves and zombies?"

"Of course there are," he informed her. "Although you mostly find zombies further south, where the _voudun_ priests are."

"What about mummies? Do they only hang around in Egypt?"

He snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. No one believes in mummies."

"They don't?"

"Of course not," Jace said. "Look, Hodge will explain all this to you when you see him."

Clary crossed her arms over her chest in protest. "What if I don't want to see him?"

"That's your problem. You can either come willingly or unwillingly."

Her eyes widened. "Are you threatening to _kidnap_ me?"

"If you want to look at it that way," Jace said, "yes."

Clary opened her mouth but was interrupted by a buzzing noise. Her phone.

"Go ahead and answer that if you like," Jace smiled.

The phone stopped ringing, and then started again louder. Clary dug it out her bag and raised it to her ear. "Mom?" Clary's back stiffened. "It's all right, Mom. I'm fine. I'm on my way home-" A loud yell screeched out of the phone. "Mom!" Clary shouted into the phone. "Mom, are you all right?"

Alarm and anxiety prickled through Jace. He heard a loud crash out of the phone. "_Who's_ found you? Mom, did you call the police? Did you-" Clary paused. "_Mom!"_ Clary shrieked and Jace took a step towards her. "Mom, are you there?"

"Clary," Jace said. It was the first time he'd ever said her name out loud. "What's going on?" She ignored him and pressed a button on her phone. Jace could hear the busy signal from where he stood.

Clary's hands started to shake uncontrollably; the phone slipped from her grasp and hit the pavement hard. She fell to her knees and examined the phone. There was a huge crack down the front. "Dammit!" she cried and threw the phone down.

"Stop that." Jace hauled her to her feet and gripped her wrist. "Has something happened?"

"Give me your phone," Clary said and reached towards his sensor and grabbed it out of his shirt pocket. "I have to-"

"It's not a phone, it's a Sensor. You won't be able to use it."

"But I need to call the police!" She said desperately.

"Tell me what happened first." Jace said. Clary ignored him and tried to pull her wrist free but she couldn't pull out of his grip. "I can _help_ you." Jace continued.

Suddenly she lashed out at him. Slight pain exploded in his cheek as her nails raked it. He jerked back in surprise. Before he could stop her, Clary ran off towards Seventh Avenue. For a moment Jace stood uncertainly and stared after her.

_I can't let her go again,_ he told himself. With that he drew a few runes on his arm, took a deep breath and ran after Clary.

* * *

**What did you think? TELL ME! Hit that review button! **

**Anyway, I'm posting another chapter to _Idris Boarding School_ either tonight or early tomorrow so PLEASE CHECK IT OUT!**

**Well thanks guys for reading and if I get 5 more reviews by tomorrow I'll make sure I get that chapter up and 10 I'll haul some ass and get 2 chapters up. **

**xoxoKaylaMariexoxo**


	4. Ravener Demon

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the MI characters **

**Enjoy!**

**xoxoKaylaMariexox**

* * *

4  
Ravener

Jace ran after her with a foreign sense of alarm and protectiveness. His face stung where she struck him with her nails. He stopped for a second, he didn't see which direction she went. How was he supposed to know where she lived? Jace shook his head, cursing to himself, and turned left.

He was going crazy with panic now. He could _not_ let anything happened to this girl. This random girl that he dreamed of all night and yearned to hold her when he saw her and yearned to see her when he didn't. _Or is she random?_

He remembered the way he forced Hodge to let him be the one to find her. He's not sure why, Clary just fascinates him.

He saw an apartment complex and was about to run past it when he heard a faint scream that he'd know anywhere even in the short time he knew her. Clary's scream. _By the Angel, PLEASE be okay_. He raced towards the apartment and reached for his sensor before remembering that Clary still had it.

"Shit," Jace cursed under his breath and raced ahead.

He ran up the stairs, and followed the loud noises to an apartment. The door was wide open and he smelled the blood, demon among human. _SHIT SHIT SHIT!_

Sure enough there was blood on the floor, wet and fresh. He was overwhelmed with panic .

"Clary! Where are you?" He heard her scream again, but this one sounded faint, as if she just didn't have the energy to scream. He followed the sound, his heart pounding in his chest.

There she was: lying in a pool of blood, with a Ravener demon on top of her. He came in just in time to see the demon disappear. He rushed to her side and swept her up. He took her downstairs as quick as he could manage without hurting her more. He laid her behind her apartment building in the grass to look at her wound.

He saw her eyes flutter slightly before moaning and knowing what she was going to do next he told her not to move.

She turned her head and gasped in pain. She tried sit up and gagged. Her fingers dug into the ground hard.

"I told you not to move," Jace hissed. "That Ravener demon got you in the back of the neck. It was half-dead so it wasn't much of a sting, but we have to get you to the Institute. Hold still."

"That thing- the monster- it _talked._" Clary said, shuddering uncontrollably but Jace knew it wasn't because of the weather.

"You've heard a demon talk before." Jace tried to be gentle. Poison was inside her body right now, spreading fast. He tied the cloth under her neck. He felt kind the warm, burning feeling again when he touched her.

"That demon in Pandemonium- it looked like a person."

"It was an Eidolon demon. A shape-changer. Raveners look like they look. Not very attractive, but they're too stupid to care."

"It said it was going to eat me."

"But it didn't. You killed it." Jace finished the knot and sat back, not being able to hide the awe in his voice.

Clary sat up with a relieved look all over her face. "The police are here." Her voice was hoarse. "We should-"

"There's nothing they can do. Somebody probably heard you screaming and reported it. Ten to one of those aren't real police officers. Demons have a way of hiding their tracks."

"My mom," Clary said as her forehead furrowed as if trying to think really hard.

"There's Ravener poison coursing through your veins _right_ now. You'll be dead in an hour if you don't come with me." He stood up and held out his hand to her. She grabbed it, her shaking hand in his, and pulled herself upright. "Come on."

Jace looked over at Clary who was walking kind of off balance. He slid his arm across her back to try and steady her. "Can you walk?"

"I think so." She turned away from him looking at the demon-policemen. She turned back to him quick with widened eyes. She turned back around and he saw what she was staring at. "Her hands-"

"I told you they might be demons." Jace looked at the back of the building. "We have to get out of here. Can we go through the ally?"

Clary shook her head. "It's bricked up. There's no way-" She started to cough and put her hand to her mouth. She whimpered when her hand came back red, covered in blood.

He grabbed her wrist fast and turned it over. This might do unthinkable things to her but he had to try, he needed to do anything to save her. Her knees buckled, but she stayed up, due to the firm grip he had on her wrist. He took out his stele and drew a rune on her wrist. He felt her try to pull away, but his grip was hard. Although he was extremely nervous inside._ If she is not a shadowhunter, and I am putting a rune on a mundane, this will do much worse than kill her._ Though he was very sure that this would work. When he was finished, she examined the black design of overlapping circles on her skin.

"What's that supposed to do?"

"It'll hide you," he said. "Temporarily." He slid the stele back into his belt and caught her questioning look. "My stele."

"Jace," she said, saying his name for the first time, and crumpled into his arms. The poison was getting closer to her heart. He needed to hurry.

He panicked. "Clary?" What if he did this? What if the rune had this effect on her? He caught her and hurried to the Institute as fast as he could.

He walked up to the Institute and pulled the door open. When he got in, blood and ichor dripped onto the ground as he went to find Hodge.

"Jace!"

"She was attacked by a Ravener demon. She has poison running throughout her body right now and she needs to be treated. Right away."

"Did you kill the demon?"

"Didn't need to"

"DIDN'T NEED TO!?" Isabelle screamed as she came in the room.

"No. She did it quite fine by herself."

"She killed it?" She said, disbelief clear in her voice and expression.

"LOOK, SHE'S DYING! CAN WE POSSIBLY DISCUSS THIS LATER?!" I lost it, she can't die and having this conversation right now wasn't helping.

Hodge and Isabelle looked taken aback at his urgency but he nodded his head and scooped her out of his arms and headed towards the infirmary.

Jace watched Hodge walk down the hallway and went to his room, collapsing on his bed and not caring about the blood coating his shirt.

The last thing he saw was Clary's pale, unconscious face before darkness overcame him and pulled him into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**Hope you guys liked that and IF you get me those reviews I will have the trip to the silent brothers up later today and the first kiss/midnight flower segment up tomorrow. Don't forget to take a look at my other story "Idris Boarding School" **

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	5. Clary Meets Hodge

**I LIED! oops :/ haha instead of the trip to the silent brothers today I'm going to push that back and do the part where Clary wakes up and talks to Hodge in the library.** **I'm trying to go in order of my request so after this chapter I'll do the trip back to her house and the talk to madame Dorothea. ****  
**

**Anyways, Enjoy!**

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* * *

5

Clave and Covenant

It was the third day Clary had been unconscious and Jace had just woken up. He couldn't possibly train when his mind so was clouded with thought of Clary. Hodge told him she should be fine but she's been out for _three_ days. so he decided to go to the music room and play the piano. He sat on the soft stool and the notes flowed under his hands. He closed his eyes but he still saw those green eyes looking back at him, full of pain and loss. He played harder trying to drown out his thoughts.

Jace heard a faint shuffle behind him. He turned and peered into the dark but couldn't make out the face of the person that stood in the doorway.

"Alec?" he asked "Is that you?"

"It's not Alec. It's me," a female voice answered him. His heart leapt at the sound of it.

"Clary," he near there whispered.

He ignored the jolt of adrenalin that sparked through him at the sight of her and said, "Our own Sleeping Beauty. Who finally kissed you awake?" Thoughts of him kissing her rose to mind and he shook his head, trying to clear it.

"Nobody. I woke up on my own."

"Was anyone with you?" Jace said, not liking the idea of her being alone in a strangen unfamiliar place.

"Isabelle, but she went off to get someone–Hodge, I think. She told me to wait, but–"

"I should have warned her about your habit of never doing what you're told." Jace squinted and took in what she was wearing: flashy, glitzy clothes that were too big on her and that could only belong to one person. "Are those Isabelle's clothes? They look ridiculous on you."

"I could point out that you burned _my _clothes."

"It was purely precautionary." Jace closed the piano lid, sliding his hands across it as he did. "Come on, I'll take you to Hodge."

Jace lead her past the many bedrooms. As if on cue Clary asked, "Why does this place have so many bedrooms? I thought it was a research institute."

"This is the residential wing. We're pledged to offer safety and lodging to any Shadowhunter who requests it. We can house up to two hundred people here."

"But most of these rooms are empty."

"People come and go. Nobody stays for long. Usually it's just us: Alec, Isabelle, Max, their parents–and me and Hodge."

"Max?"

"You met the beauteous Isabelle? Alec is her elder brother. Max is the youngest, but he's overseas with his parents."

"On vacation?" Jace wasn't annoyed at her constant questions like he would with anyone else. He was glad he was the one that got to tell her everything._  
_

"Not exactly." He hesitated and tried to think of a term for Maryse and Robert that she would understand.

"You can think of them as–as foreign diplomats, and of this as an embassy, of sorts. Right now they're in the Shadowhunter home country, working out some very delicate peace negotiations. They brought Max with them because he's so young."

"Shadowhunter home country?" She sounded baffled. "What's it called?"

"Idris."

"I've never heard of it." _  
_

"You wouldn't have." He said, letting arrogance seep into his voice to hide the longing he felt towards his home. "Mundanes don't know about it. There are wardings–protective spells–up all over the borders. If you tried to cross into Idris, you'd simply find yourself transported instantly from one border to the next. You'd never know what happened."

"So it's not on any maps?"

"Not mundie ones. For our purposes you can consider it a small country between Germany and France."

"But there isn't anything between Germany and France. Except Switzerland."

"Precisely." Jace grinned.

"I take it you've been there. To Idris, I mean."

Jace's grin fell slightly and he kept his tone safely neutral. "I grew up there." He said. "Most of us do. There are, of course, Shadowhunters all over the world. We have to be everywhere because demonic activity is everywhere. But to a Shadowhunter, Idris is always 'home'"

"Like Mecca or Jerusalem," said Clary. "So most of you are brought up there, and then when you grow up–"

"We're sent where we're needed," Jace said shortly. "And there are a few, like Isabelle and Alec, who grow up away from the home country because that's where their parents are. With all the resources of the Institute here, with Hodge's training–" He broke off when spotted the familiar arched wooden doors. "This is the library."

Church was sprawled in front of them. As they approached he raised his head and yowled. "Hey, Church." Jace said and started stroking the Persian with his foot. Church slit his eyes in pleasure.

"Wait," said Clary. "Alec and Isabelle and Max–they're the only Shadowhunters your age that you know, that you spend time with?"

Jace stopped stroking the cat and looked at her, tilting his head slightly. "Yes."

"That must get kind of lonely." Jace paused; no-one had ever said that to him before, though he had thought about it.

"I have everything I need." He said. As he pushed the double doors open and strode inside he thought about the truth in that statement and also the lies. It seemed lately that he needed _her_.

* * *

As he walked into the library and watched as Clary's expression turned to one of awe. There were books stacked around the circular room reached to the ceiling.

He noted Alec sprawled in the red armchair by the empty fireplace but didn't comment because he was turned back to enjoying the look of awe on Clary's face again.

The familiar sight of his tutor and Hugo, the raven so oftenly perched on Hodge's shoulder, met his eyes. Hodge sat at the gleaming desk.

"A book lover, I see," Hodge said, smiling at Clary. "You didn't tell me that, Jace."

Jace grinned and stood with his hands in his pockets, behind her. "We haven't done much talking during our short acquaintance," he laughed. "I'm afraid our reading habits didn't come up.

Clary shot him a glare that plainly meant 'shut up' and turned back to face Hodge.

"How can you tell?" She asked him. "That I like books, I mean."

"The look on your face when you walked in," he replied, standing up and walking around the desk to talk to them. "Somehow I doubted you were that impressed by _me."_

As Hodge rose, Jace heard Clary make a choking noise that sounded like a stifled gasp.

"This is Hugo. Hugo is a raven and, as such, he knows many things. I, meanwhile, am Hodge Starkweather, a professor of history, and, as such, do not know nearly enough."

Clary laughed. A tinkling sound that filled the entire room. Jace smiled as she introduced herself to Hodge and shook his hand. "Clary Fray."

"Honoured to make your acquaintance," he said. "I would be honoured to make the acquaintance of anyone who could kill a Ravener with her bare hands."

"It wasn't my bare hands," Clary replied modestly."It was Jace's – well I don't remember what it was called, but–"

"She means my Sensor," Jace cut in. "She shoved it down the thing's throat. The runes must have choked it. I guess I'll need another one," he added as an afterthought. "I should have mentioned that."

"There are several extra in the weapons room," said Hodge and directed his gaze back to Clary. "That was quick thinking," he smiled. "What gave you the idea of using the Sensor as a weapon?"

Before Clary could reply, a sharp laugh pierced through the room. Jace remembered Alec in the armchair and turned to look at him. Jace was taken aback at the pure hostility in Alec's eyes, even though it wasn't directed at him. It was sharply concentrated on Clary.

"I can't believe you buy that story, Hodge," he sneered.

Jace felt a burst of anger.

"I'm not quite sure what you mean, Alec." Hodge raised a bushy gray eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that she didn't kill that demon after all?"

"Of course she didn't. Look at her – she's a mundie, Hodge, and a little kid, at that. There's no way she took on a Ravener."

The burst of anger had turned into a firework. Why was Alec suddenly being so malicious and hostile?

"I'm not a little kid," Clary interrupted. "I'm sixteen years old – well, I will be on Sunday."

"The same age as Isabelle," Hodge told Alec. "Would you call her a child?"

"Isabelle hails from one of the greatest Shadowhunter dynasties in history," Alec said snidely, his voice full of arrogance. "This girl, on the other hand, hails from New Jersey."

"I'm from Brooklyn!" Clary sounded angry. "And so what? I just killed a demon in my own house, and you're going to be a dickhead about it because I'm not some spoiled-rotten rich brat like you and your sister?"

Alec looked like a Diasign demon had just got up and asked him if he wanted to play chess. Jace pressed his lips together and tried not to burst out in laughter, failing.

"_What_ did you call me?" Alec asked while turning to glare at the still-laughing Jace.

"She has a point, Alec," Jace cut in. "Plenty of Downworld activity going on in the boroughs, you know. It's those bridge and tunnel demons you really have to watch out for –"

"It's not _funny, _Jace," Alec interrupted, standing up. "Are you just going to let her stand there and call me names?"

"Yes," Jace said. "It'll do you good – try to think of it as endurance training."

"We may be _parabatai_," Alec told him tightly. "But your flippancy is wearing on my patience."

"And your obstinacy wearing on mine," Jace retorted . "When I found her, she was lying in a pool of blood with a dying demon practically on top of her." Jace mentally winced at the memory. _What was wrong with him?_ "I watched as it vanished. If she didn't kill it, who did?"

"Raveners are stupid," Alec replied. "Maybe it got itself in the neck with its stinger. It's happened before –"

"Now you're suggesting it committed suicide?"

Alec's mouth tightened. "It isn't right for her to be here," Alec argued. "Mundies aren't allowed in the Institute, and there are good reasons for that. If anyone knew about this, we could be reported to the Clave."

_Three days he was fighting with Izzy that she DID need to be here and now all of a sudden he changed his mind?_

"That's not entirely true," Hodge said calmly. "The Law allows us to offer sanctuary to mundanes under certain circumstances. A Ravener has already attacked Clary's mother – she could well have been next."

Jace glanced at Clary and remembered the rune he'd Marked on her. He knew she wasn't going anywhere soon, not if he told Hodge and Alec. _If?_ He had to, she couldn't just leave.

Jace was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost missed Alec's reply to Hodge. "Raveners are search-and-destroy machines," he said. "They act under orders from warlocks or powerful demon lords. Now, what interest would a warlock or powerful demon lord have in an ordinary mundane household?" Alec's eyes were fixed on Clary, as if she was something disgusting he'd trodden in. "Any thoughts?"

Clary replied, "It must have been a mistake."

"Demons don't make those kinds of mistakes. If they went after your mother, there must have been a reason. If she were innocent –"

"What do you mean, 'innocent'?" Clary's voice was quiet, but Jace could hear the faint anger still in her voice, but there was something else in there too... disbelief? Challenge?

Alec looked taken aback. "I –"

"What he means," said Hodge, trying to stop Alec digging himself a bigger hole, "is that it is extremely unusual for a powerful demon, the kind who might command a host of lesser demons, to interest himself in the affairs of human beings. No mundane may summon a demon – they lack that power – but there have been some, desperate and foolish, that have found a witch or warlock to do it for them."

"My mother doesn't know any warlocks. She doesn't believe in magic." Clary paused, and then added, "Madame Dorothea – she lives downstairs – she's a witch. Maybe the demons were after her and got my mom by mistake?" Clary's voice sounded hopeful. Jace hated to take her hopes away. He remembered the research he did when he simply couldn't take his mind off of Clary.

Hodge's eyebrows disappeared into his hair. "A witch lives downstairs from you?"

"She's a hedge witch – a fake," Jace said. "I already looked into it. There's no reason for any warlock to be interested in her unless he's in the market for non-functional crystal balls."

"And we're back where we began. It seems the time has come to notify the Clave."

"No!" Jace protested. He thought about who Clary really was and all the Clave would do is treat her like Alec had. She was a Shadowhunter who had been brought up as a mundane. To the Clave, Clary was no better than a Downworlder. They would ruin her life. "We can't –"

"It made sense to keep Clary's presence here a secret while we were not sure she would recover," Hodge said with infuriating calmness. "But now that she has, she is the first mundane to pass through the doors of the Institute in over a hundred years. You know the rules about mundane knowledge of Shadowhunters, Jace. The Clave must be informed."

"Absolutely," Alec agreed. "I could get a message to my father –"

Jace breathed in deeply. He had to tell them. He braced himself for their reaction.

"She's not a mundane," he said quietly.

Hodges eyebrows rose into his hairline and in any other situation Jace would have laughed at how absurd he looked. Alec, stopped in the middle of a sentence, choking in surprise.

"But I am," Clary argued.

"No," said Jace. "You aren't." He turned to Hodge and swallowed with nervousness at what he was about to say. "That night – there were Du'sien demons, dressed like police officers. We had to get past them. Clary was too weak to run, and there wasn't time to hide – she would have died. So I used my stele – put a mendelin rune on the inside of her arm. I thought –"

"Are you out of your _mind?"_Hodge slammed a hand down onto the desk, so hard that even though Jace had braced himself, he still flinched. "You know what the Law says about placing Marks on mundanes! You – you of all people ought to know better!"

"But it worked," Jace said. "Clary, show them your arm."

With a baffled, hesitant glance at Jace, Clary held out her bare arm. Just below her wrist the mendelin rune was very faint, like a faded scar.

"See it's almost gone," Jace said logically, trying to reason with Hodge. "It didn't hurt her at all.

"That's not the point." Hodge was using all his strength to rein his anger in and Jace knew it was because Clary was in the room. "You could have turned her into a Forsaken."

Alec spoke up, angry. "I can't believe you, Jace. Only Shadowhunters can receive Covenant Marks – they _kill_ mundanes –"

"She's not a mundane," Jace repeated for the millionth time in an exasperated voice. "Haven't you been listening? It explains why she could see us. She must have Clave blood."

Clary slowly lowered her arm and the movement brought her back to Jace's attention. "But I don't. I couldn't," she argued.

"You must," Jace said, not meeting her eyes, ashamed of what might have happened if she didn't. "If you didn't, that Mark I made on your arm . . ."

"That's enough Jace," Hodge said, the displeasure and disappointment plain in his voice. "There's no need to frighten her further."

"But I was right, wasn't I? It explains what happened to her mother, too. If she was a Shadowhunter in exile, she might well have Downworld enemies."

"My mother wasn't a Shadowhunter!" Clary protested.

"Your father, then," Jace asked, eager to solve the mystery surrounding Clary. "What about him?"

Clary returned his gaze with a flat stare. "He died. Before I was born."

Jace flinched, unable to conceal it. Clary's statement urged emotions in him: sad remembrance of his own father and left him speechless.

Alec spoke before Jace could respond. "It's possible," he said awkwardly. "If her father was a Shadowhunter and her mother a mundane – well, we all know it's against the Law to marry a mundie. Maybe they were in hiding."

"My mother would have told me," Clary said, though Jace heard the doubt in her voice.

"Not necessarily," Jace said. "We all have secrets." _  
_

"Luke," Clary said. "Our friend. He would know. It's been three days – he must be frantic. Can I call him? Is there a phone?" She turned to Jace in desperation. "Please."

Jace paused, not sure whether Hodge would approve. He looked at Hodge, who nodded and moved away from the desk to reveal a telephone.

Clary picked up the phone hesitantly and dialled a number.

"Luke!" She cried and sagged against the desk. Jace leant forward to help then stopped himself. "It's me, Clary."

"I'm fine," she said in response to something Luke said. "I'm sorry I didn't call you before. Luke, my mom –" Clary stopped.

"Then you haven't heard from her." She sounded crushed and Jace longed to comfort her, yet again he held himself back, tensing his whole body.

"What did the police say?" Clary paused. He walked over and leant on Alec's chair.

"I'm in the city," Clary said. "I don't know where exactly. With some friends. My wallet's gone, though. If you've got some cash, I could take a cab to your place–"

The phone slipped in Clary's hand and she caught it. "What?"

Another pause. "We could call –"

A long silence followed. "But I don't want to stay here," Clary whined. "I don't know these people. You –"

Something stopped Clary short and Jace saw tears in her eyes. For the third time in that short conversation, Jace held himself back from comforting Clary. What was _wrong _with him. "I'm sorry. It's just –"

Clary just stopped and stared at the phone and Jace knew 'Luke' had hung up.

Clary dialled a number again, and then slammed the phone down hard in frustration. Her hands were trembling. She looked up and met his eyes.

"I take it he wasn't happy to hear from you?" Jace inquired.

"I think I'd like to have a talk with Clary," Hodge said. "Alone."

Alec stood up. "Fine we'll leave you to it," he said.

"That's hardly fair," Jace objected. "I'm the one who found her. I'm the one who saved her life!"He turned to Clary, his gaze asking, almost begging. "You want me here, don't you?"

Clary looked away and Jace felt a strong sense of disappointment. "Not everyone wants you all the time, Jace," Alec laughed.

"Don't be ridiculous," Jace said, in weak response. "Fine, then. We'll be in the weapons room."

He and Alec strode out and the library door clicked shut behind them. Alec went ahead and Jace paused outside the door.

"Don't bother listening in, there's a sound proof rune on the door now. let's go." Jace sighed in defeat and followed after Alec.

* * *

**Don't forget to send me a quick review if you want to read Sebastian's & Clary's first kiss in COG (SPOV) and if people want to read it, I'll post it. The sooner you review, the faster it's up.**

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	6. Forsaken

**Hope you guys enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor never will in this universe, any of these fabulous, brilliantly created characters or this wonderful plot.**

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* * *

6

Forsaken

Jace made his way to the weapons room with Alec walking at his side. He was silent the whole time trying to keep his temper in-check. Screaming at Alec right now wouldn't help anyone but it's not like that's ever stopped him before. He didn't see why Alec was so rude to Clary and to be honest, he wasn't all to happy that Clary kicked him out of the library.

Jace leaned up against the table in the middle of the room and hoisted one leg up, leaving the other touching the floor. Alec stood beside him and he, too, grabbed a blade and began inspecting it.

He paused for a second, "Jace-"

"WHAT THE _HELL, _ALEC?!"

"Um, I was just going to ask if you thought this handle was too wide but if you think it is I'll-"

"Not the damn blade, Alec! What the hell was wrong with you in there?"

Alec turned away from Jace so he couldn't see his face and murmured something.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Jace asked sarcastically.

"What is it about her?" Alec said quietly, finally turning to face him.

"She's different"

"Well she's going to get us all killed"

The door opened and Clary walked in. Jace watched as he breath caught and she looked around the room in awe.

"Where's Hodge?" He said as her eyes met his.

"Writing to the Silent Brothers."

"Ugh." remarked Alec. The Silent Brothers gave them all the creeps. His eyes were gazing at Clary in a hated expression causing my own anger to flare, and then more confusion.

_Why was he acting like that?_

Jace watched as Clary made her way over to the table slowly, looked at Alec, and flinched. She met Jace's glance and kept walking toward them. "What are you doing?"

"Putting the last touches on these." Jace stepped aside so she could examine the blades. He named the aloud. "Sanvi, Sansanvi, and Semangelaf."

"Those don't look like knifes. How did you make them? Magic?"

Alec scoffed and Jace rolled his eyes. "The funny thing about mundies," Jace said, to nobody in particular. "is how obsessed with magic they are for a bunch of people who don't even know what the word means."

"I know what it means," She snapped.

"No, you don't, you just think you do. Magic is a dark and elemental force, not just a lot of sparkly wands and crystal balls and talking goldfish."

"I never said it was a lot of talking goldfish, you-"

Jace waved a hand, cutting her off. He knew in the back of his head he was being rude and sarcastic but he didn't see why he cared, that's how he always was. "Just because you call an electric eel a rubber duck doesn't make it a rubber duck, does it? And God help the poor bastard who decides they want to take a bath with the duckie."

"You're driveling," Clary observed, tilting her head as if she was trying to see something from a different angle.

"I'm not," Jace said, but the voice in his head told him he was.

"Yes, you are," Alec suddenly spoke up. Jace forgot Alec was even here. "Look, we don't do magic, okay?" he added, avoiding Clary's eyes. "That's all you need to know about it."

Clary looked taken aback for a moment, and then seemed to forget about Alec's temper. She turned to Jace. "Hodge said I can go home."

Jace almost dropped the seraph blade in shock. Does Hodge know how dangerous that is?

_"__He said__ what?_"

"To look through my mother's things," she continued, then paused before adding, "If you go with me."

"Jace," Alec said, sounding restless. Jace ignored him, because he was just going to go on and on about how dangerous it could be for _Jace_ and how she shouldn't be allowed, and all that.

"If you really want to prove that my mom or dad was a Shadowhunter, we should look through my mom's things. What's left of them."

"Down the rabbit hole." Jace grinned and agreed, his mind buzzing in excitement. "Good idea. If we go right now, we should have another three, four hours of daylight."

"Do you want me to come with you?" He heard Alec say, in a hopeful voice.

Without turning around, Jace replied in a nonchalant tone, "No. That's all right. Clary and I can handle this on our own."

Jace didn't need to turn around to know that Alec was glaring at him. Jace led Clary down the hall. "Have you got your house keys?" He asked her without turning to look at her.

"Yeah."

"Good. Not that we couldn't break in, but we'd run a greater chance of disturbing any wards that might be up if we did."

"If you say so." She said, sounding bored and doubtful. When they got to the elevator, Jace pushed the button next to the huge metal gate for the elevator to go down. "Jace?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you know I had Shadowhunter blood? Was there some way you could tell?"

The elevator came and they walked in slowly. "I guessed," he said, a guilty feeling rose in his stomach. "It seemed like the most likely explanation."

"You guessed? You must have been pretty sure, considering you could have killed me."

He pressed the button and the elevator lurched. He didn't dare look at her as he tried to find the words he was looking for for fear of what he would see in her eyes.

"I was ninety percent sure." Those were not the words he was looking for.

"I see," Clary said.

Her voice held a slight anger that made it sound like she was trying to control it. As he was turned to apologize he saw her hand come up and crack hard against his face. The slap rocked him back onto his heels in shock. He put his hand up to his cheek.

"What the hell was that for?"

"The other ten percent," she said as they rode the rest of he couldn't bring himself to be. He knew he deserved it but in the short notice and time they had at the moment, it seemed like the only option.

His cheek stung, but he could care less about that. He felt Clary's gaze and looked at her. He cocked an eyebrow up. "Can I help you with something?" He said amusing himself.

Clary looked across the train over to two girls who were giggling and staring. "Those girls on the other side of the car are staring at you." She said in a disgusted voice

He smiled, "Of course they are, I am stunningly attractive."

"Haven't you heard that modesty is an attractive trait?"

"Only from ugly people," Which isn't true at all. Clary was quite beautiful herself, with her red hair flowing every time she moved her head, curls bouncing and her green eyes shining, which brought all the attention to her face full of small freckles. "The meek may inherit the earth, but at the moment it belongs to the conceited. Like me." He winked at the girls and heard Clary sigh beside him.

"How come they can see you?"

"Glamours are a pain to use. Sometimes we don't bother."

When they left the station, they headed for Clary's apartment. He took his seraph blade out and started flipping it around his fingers, humming.

"Do you have to do that?" Clary asked. "It's annoying."

He hummed louder, just to get on her nerves.

"I'm sorry I smacked you," she said in a quiet voice.

He stopped humming, not expecting her to apologize. "Just be glad you hit me and not Alec. He would have hit you back."

"He seems to be itching for the chance," she said kicking a soda can on the ground. "What is it Alec called you? Para-something?"

_"Parabatai,"_ said Jace. "It means a pair of warriors who fight together- who are closer than brothers. Alec is more than just my best friend. My father and his father were parabatai when they were young. His father was my godfather- that's why I live with them. They're my adopted family."

"But your last name isn't Lightwood."

Jace hesitated, wanted to avoid the subject. The last thing he wanted was sympathy or pity. "No,"

The house did not have any signs of destruction, that Jace could tell, but he knew it was just a glamour. "It looks the same," Clary said.

"On the outside." Jace pulled out his Sensor.

"So that's a Sensor? What does it do?" she asked.

"It picks up frequencies, like a radio does, but these frequencies are demonic in origin."

"Demon shortwave?"

"Something like that." As they walked up the stairs, the Sensor made a clicking sound, which indicated small demonic activity, nothing serious. "It's picking up trace activity, but that could just be left over from that night. I'm not getting anything strong enough for there to be demons present now."

Clary was shaking, but she breathed a relieved breath. "Good." She bent to her shoes and grabbed her keys. Jace saw scratches on the door that came from the Ravener's long, sharp claws.

Jace reached out and touched her arm. "I'll go first," he said. It took her a second to act on it, but she moved out of the way to let him pass. He turned the door and went in. The hall was very dim. The light bulb was out. Jace saw something on the banister. He wiped his hand across it and it came away red. "Blood."

"Maybe it's mine." Clary's voice was small, but he could hear her. "From the other night."

"It'd be dry by now if it were," Jace said. "Come on."

They headed upstairs. It was dark and hard to see anything. He didn't want to turn any lights on, because he didn't want to draw any attention to anything that might be here. Jace didn't think there was anything, considering his Sensor wasn't acting up, but just to be sure. Clary was fumbling with her keys, trying to slide it into the door and finally made as Jace was leaning forward to help her

. "Don't breathe down my neck," she said impatiently. He didn't realize he was, he was just anxious to get in there.

He gently grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back. "I'll go first." He said again. The apartment was cold, it felt dead. Jace walked slowly down a short hallway leading to the living room, Clary right behind him. It was completely empty, as if they hadn't even lived there. There was nothing on the walls, no furniture, no curtains. There were lighter squares of paint on the walls, which had once held pictures or paintings, he guessed. Clary started to walk toward the kitchen, and Jace followed. The kitchen was just as empty, no fridge, chairs, tables. The cabinets were wide open, with no food or plates or anything inside of them.

"What would demons," Clary said, sounding astonishment, "want with our microwave?"

Jace shook his head, and smiled slightly. "I don't know, but I'm not sensing any demonic presents right now. I'd say they're long gone." He started to feel annoyed, like he'd wasted his day. There was obviously nothing here. He couldn't help but wonder if Clary just wanted to come back.

"Are you satisfied?" Jace asked her. "There's nothing here."

She shook her head and Jace met her green eyes that were filled with unshed tears. "I want to see my room."

He was about to argue, but he looked into her watering eyes and couldn't bring himself to say. "If that's what it takes," he said as he slid his blade into his pocket.

The hallway was dark and Clary was leading the way. She reached for the door knob, and Jace sensed something, not with his Sensor, but he could feel that something was wrong. He shot Clary a warning look, and to tell her to move away, or get closer to him but she turned the knob, which seemed to be stuck. Then all of a sudden, the door blew outward knocking Clary against the wall.

Jace was flat against the wall, staring in total shock. He fumbled through his pocket to find his blade. And there he saw it. An enormous man, with dead-white hands in which he holding a broad-bladed axe. He wore rags that used to be clothes and he was covered in dirt. He was Forsaken.

Jace held up his seraph blade, and called out its name. "Sansanvi!"

The blade attacked, slashing the Forsaken, who staggered backward.

Jace whirled around to find Clary. He found her lying down, bleeding, but not as bad as the other night. He grabbed her forearm, pulled her to her feet, and pushed her in front of him down the hall.

_She has to stay safe, I will keep her safe._

She stopped at the stairs. He glanced at her. "Oh by the Angel," he said under his breath. "Get downstairs! Get out of the-"

Another blow came and almost knocked him off his feet, but he was too quick. He was on the top stair now, the blade shining brightly, so that it was pretty much the only light here.

"Clary! Move over to the-" but the forsaken threw his axe straight at him. He ducked and the axe went into the banister.

Jace laughed. There is nothing like the high of the fight. You get addicted to the power and adrenaline it gives you. The laugh enraged the creature, and hurled toward Jace with his enormous fists raised. He took out his seraph blade and hit the forsaken's shoulder, causing him to sway for a moment before he started to lean forward. Jace moved aside, but wasn't fast enough this time. The Forsaken fell, grabbing onto Jace and bringing him under him. Jace cried out in excruciating pain.

"Jace?" He heard her voice. Faint and almost not even there. He opened his eyes and looked at her. A flash of beautiful green was shining in front of him.

"Is it dead?" he asked her.

"Almost," Clary said grimly.

"Hell." he couldn't bare the pain. His legs were under the giant. "My legs-"

"Hold still." She said, sounding way calmer in this situation than he ever thought anyone brought up in a mundane world was capable of. She slipped her hands under his arms and pulled. Jace groaned as the fiery pain started to move up his body in addition to the warmth the feel of her hands on his body caused him. She slipped his legs out from under the Forsaken and let go. The creature was spasming, which was normal. His arm was in pain too, but he only just noticed it. He struggled to his feet as she stood beside him. "Is your arm all right?"

"No. Broken," he said. "Can you reach into my pocket?"

She nodded hesitantly. "Which one?"

"Inside jacket, right side. Take out one of the seraph blades and hand it to me." He held still as she slowly reached into his pocket. Her hand was shaking, and being this close to her made him shiver. Her hair tickled his shoulder. She pulled the blade out and handed it to him, but avoided his eyes. "Thanks," he said. He took it and named it. "Sanvi." He said quietly. "Don't watch." he said, going over to the Forsaken. He shot the blade down into its throat. Blood went everywhere. Jace made a low grunt in his throat, disgusted. He looked at Clary. "I told you not to watch,"

"I thought it would disappear," she said. "Back to its own dimension- you said."

"I said that's what happens to demons when they die," he pulled his jacket off and winced at the pain in his arm. "That wasn't a demon." He drew his stele out of his belt with his good hand, and caught her confused stare.

"This," he said. "Is a stele." He touched it to the iratze on his shoulder, a star that is not yet connected. "And this," he said, "is what happens when Shadowhunters are wounded."

With the tip of his stele, he connected the two lines and completed the star-shaped iratze. It sank into his skin, so that it looked more like a scar than a tattoo. He moved his arm slowly, just to make sure the iratze worked, and brought it down with no pain at all.

"That's amazing," Clary said. "How did you-?"

"That was an iratze- a healing rune," Jace said. "Finishing the rune with the stele activates it." He put the stele away and put his jacket back on, hiding a glance back at Clary. He tapped the Forsaken with his foot. "We're going to have to report this to Hodge," he said. "He'll freak out," he said.

"Why will he freak?" Clary said. "And I get that that thing wasn't a demon- that's why the Sensor didn't register it, right?"

Jace nodded then winced slightly at the thought of drawing the rune on Clary could have turned her in that. "You see those scars all over its face?"

"Yes."

"Those were made with a stele. Like this one." he tapped it in his belt. "You asked me what happens when you carve Marks onto someone who doesn't have Shadowhunter blood. Just one Mark will only burn you, but a lot of Marks, powerful ones? Carved into the flesh of a totally ordinary human being with no trace of human ancestry? You get this." He jerked his chin down at the corpse.

"The runes are agonizingly painful. The Marked ones go insane- the pain drives them out of their minds. They become fierce, mindless killers. They don't sleep or eat unless you make them, and they die, usually quickly. Runes have great power and can be used to do great good- but they can be used for evil. The Forsaken are evil."

Clary stared at him in horror. "But why would anyone do that to themselves?"

"Nobody would. It's something that gets done to them. By a warlock, maybe, some Downworlder gone bad. The Forsaken are loyal to the one who Marked them, and they're fierce killers. They can obey simple commands, too. It's like having a- a slave army." He stepped over the dead Forsaken and looked at her. "I'm going back upstairs," He told her hoper his tone and expression on would give her the warning he left unsaid: Don't follow me, stay here.

"But there's nothing there."

"There might be more of them," he said. "You should wait here." He started to run up the stairs.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," said a voice that sopped him dead in his tracks. "There are more of them where the first one came from."

Jace spun around and stared. How on earth could anyone else have come in here? Why?

"Madame Dorothea?" Clary asked, her face just as surprised as Jace's.

_ Oh, the hedge-witch._

Jace was flabbergasted. How did she know what was up there, and that there were more? How could she even see him? "But..."

"More _what?"_ Clary said.

"More Forsaken," replied the women with a cheery tone, confusing Jace even more. "You have made a mess, haven't you? I'm sure you weren't planning on cleaning up either. Typical."

"But you're a _mundane_," Jace finally got out, finishing his sentence as the shock slowly died down and was replaced with confusion and suspicion.

"So observant," said Dorthea. "The Clave really broke the mold with you."

_Those were not the right words to choose, old lady._ "You know about the Clave?" he demanded. "You knew about them, and you knew there were Forsaken in this house, and you didn't notify them? Just the existence of Forsaken is a crime against the Covenant-"

"Neither Clave nor Covenant have ever done anything for me," she snapped back at him.

"Jace, stop it." Clary said, putting a hand out to him to cut him off. "If you knew about the Clave and the Forsaken," she said. "then maybe you know about what happened to my mother?"

She shook her head. "My advice to you," she said. "is to forget about your mother. She's gone."

Clary's face got very pale. Jace wanted so badly to go over there and comfort her. "You mean she's dead?"

"No." Dorthea said, reluctantly. "I'm sure she's still alive. For now." Jace went over and touched Clary's elbow, trying to comfort her without seeming too intimate, even though he wanted to be. _Where did that come from?_

Her skin was cool against his skin. She barely seemed to notice.

"Then I have to find her. You understand? I have to find her before-"

The old women held up her hand. "I don't want to involve myself in Shadowhunter business."

"But you knew my mother. She was your neighbor-"

"This is an official Clave investigation." Jace cut her off, taking his hand off her elbow and stepping forward as if to block her. "I can always come back with the Silent Brothers."

"Oh for the-I suppose you might as well come in," she said, sighing. "I'll tell you what I can." She started for the door, but stopped to look at Jace. "But if you tell anyone I helped you, Shadowhunter, you'll wake up tomorrow with snakes for hair and an extra pair of arms."

"That might be nice, an extra pair of arms," Jace said. "Handy in a fight."

"Not if they're growing out of your..." She paused and smiled up at him, and he tensed. "Neck."

"Yikes," Jace said, sarcasm seeping into his voice.

"Yikes is right, Jace Wayland." She marched into her apartment, leaving Jace astonished and hesitant.

Jace looked up to meet Clary's gaze. "Wayland?"

"It's my name," he said, suddenly wanting to go back to the Institute. "I can't say I like that she knows it."

"Still, I think we might as well try talking to her. What have we got to lose?"

Jace looked at Clary again and paused for a slight moment, thinking about the three times in the past week that this seemingly stranger was almost taken from him before he even had her.

"Once you've spent a bit more time in our world," Jace said. "you won't ask me that again."

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**Thanks for reading and thanks for all your reviews! I love reading what you guys think about the story and I'm always so excited when I see that there's a new one posted. Those of you who also write on FanFiction know what I'm talking about :)**

**Anyways don't forget to log on later today and read Sebastian's and Clary's kiss in COG (SPOV) it'll probably be up around 5, 6 at the latest :)**

**xoxoKaylaMariexoxo**


	7. Madame Dorothea

**Sorry, it's been a couple of days hasn't it? **

**Last week was my spring break so I got a lot done but I have finals next weeks so if a couple of days pass before an update, don't freak. **

**Well anyways, enjoy!**

**xoxoKaylaMariexoxo**

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7

The Five Dimensional Door

The old women's apartment was decorated with bead curtains and crystal balls and all the weirdness you did _not _expect from an old helpless lady.

Jace's eyes flicked over to Clary who ran her hand over the witch books on the shelf.

Dorothea poked her head through a beaded curtain and Clary jump. Jace smiled to himself. "Interested in chiromancy?" she said, eying Clary. "Or just nosy?"

"Neither," Clary said. "Can you really tell fortunes?"

"My mother had a great talent. She could see a man's future in his hand or the leaves at the bottom of his teacup. She taught me some of her tricks." She said, giving Jace a nasty stare. Funny, usually he has a different affect on women. Suddenly, as if on cue, she turned polite. "Speaking of tea, young man, would you like some?"

"What?" Jace was caught off guard by her politeness.

"Tea. I find it both settles the stomach and concentrates the mind. Wonderful drink, tea."

"I'll have tea," Clary said immediately.

Jace decided to join her. "All right. As long as it isn't Earl Gray," he added, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I hate bergamot."

The woman laughed very loudly and went to make the tea.

"You hate bergamot?" Jace heard Clary ask him.

Jace was looking at the books Dorothea had on the bookshelves. "You got a problem with that?"

"You may be the only guy my age I've ever met who knows what bergamot is, much less that it's in Earl Gray tea."

"Yes, well," Jace turned to face her. "I'm not like other guys." He said with a smirk. He'd used that so many times on girls without ever needing to worry about them listening. They always just stared. If he were trying to get Clary, though, she probably would have hit him... again. "Besides, at the Institute, we have to take classes in basic medicinal uses for plants. It's required."

"I figured all your classes were were stuff like Slaughter 101 and Beheading for Beginners."

Jace flipped a page and smiled a genuine smile at her comment. "Very funny, Fray."

She whirled around to face him again. "Don't call me that."

Jace glanced up, surprised. "Why not? It's your last name, isn't it?"

Her eyes went dark and she looked she looked away. "No reason."

"I see," And he did. This must have something to do with that mundane boy of hers. He turned around and dropped the book down, changing the subject. "This must be the trash she keeps up front to impress credible mundanes," he said, not very impressed himself. "There's not one serious text in here."

"Just because it's not the kind of magic you do-" she started, but he turned and scowled at her and it stopped her.

"I _do not do magic,"_ he said. "Get it through your head: Human beings are not magic users. It's part of what makes them human. Witches and warlocks can only use magic because they have demon blood."

Clary looked as if she didn't believe him. "But I've seen you do magic. You use enchanted weapons-"

"I use tools that are magical. And just to be able to do that, I have to undergo rigorous training. The rune tattoos on my skin protect me too. If you tried to use one of the seraph blades, for instance, it'd probably burn your skin, maybe kill you."

"What if I got the tattoos?" Clary asked. "Could I use them then?"

_No, she's not ready._ "No," he said crossly. "The Marks are only part of it. There are tests, ordeals, levels of training- look, just forget it, okay? Stay away from my blades. In fact, don't touch any of my weapons without my permission." he said, becoming angry at the thought of her fighting demons.

"Well, there goes my plan for selling them on eBay," she muttered. _eBay?__  
_

"Selling them on _what?_" he said, confused.

Clary smiled a big smile, as if it were something Jace was supposed to know. But he didn't mind. This is the first real smile he'd seen of hers. It was the most beautiful thing he's seen, besides her eyes. "A mythical place of great magical power."

Jace shrugged confused. "Most myths are true, at least in part." he said.

"I'm starting to get that."

Dorothea walked in and said, "Tea's on the table. There's no need for you two to keep standing there like donkeys. Come into the parlor."

"There's a parlor?" Clary asked.

"Of course there's a parlor," said Dorothea. "Where else would I entertain?"

"I'll just leave my hat with the footman," said Jace.

Dorothea's whole face changed when she turned to look at him. "If you were half as funny as you thought you were, my boy, you'd be twice as funny as you are." She went out to the parlor and made a "Hmph!" sound while leaving. Odd how she's so generous to Clary, but treats him like dirt.

Jace frowned. "I'm not quite sure what she meant by that."

"Really," Clary said, sounding sarcastic. "It makes perfect sense to me." She followed Dorothea through the beaded curtains. He did the same.

* * *

Jace took a seat next to Clary in the pink armchairs that were set up. He didn't pay much attention to the room because all he saw were bright colors, and that gave him a headache. Dorothea had set up on the table three teacups, a big blue teapot and a plate full of little sandwiches. It was quite impressive considering her personality was dark in his opinion, but that was probably because she could not stand him.

"Wow," Clary said, sounding weak. "This looks great."

Jace slid the plate of sandwiches over to him and examined them. They didn't look poisonous, but just to be sure. Dorothea smiled at Clary, who returned her smile. "Have some tea," she said. "Milk? Sugar?"

Jace could feel the weight of Clary's stare. He silently begged her to stop looking. It made him feel weak. "Sugar," she finally said, looking away from him, taking the weight off his shoulders.

Jace shrugged, not really wanting any tea. He picked up one of the sandwiches and bit into it, finding himself hungry. _Gross_. He caught Clary's stare this time, shrugging in response. "Cucumber."

"I always think cucumber sandwiches are just the thing for tea, don't you?" The old lady said, to no one in particular.

"I hate cucumber," Jace said and gave the rest of his sandwich to Clary.

"Cucumber and bergamot," Clary said when she finished chewing. "Is there anything else you hate that I ought to know about?"

Jace sneaked a look at Dorothea over his teacup. "Liars," he said simply.

"You can call me a liar all you like," the old women said, setting her teacup down gently. "It's true, I'm not a witch. But my mother was."

Jace started to choke on his tea. "That's impossible."

"Why impossible?" Clary wondered, her voice full of curiosity.

Jace got ready for another long lesson for the mundane-raised Shadowhunter. He took a deep breath, but it wasn't one of annoyance. "Because they're half human, half demon. All witches and warlocks are crossbreeds, they can't have children. They're sterile."

"Like mules," she said looking proud of herself. "Mules are sterile crossbreeds."

Jace smiled, holding back a laugh. "Your knowledge of livestock is astounding." he said. "All Downworlders are in some part demon, but only warlocks are the children of demon parents. It's why their powers are the strongest."

"Vampires and werewolves- they're part demon, too? And faeries?"

"Vampires and werewolves are the result of diseases brought from demons from their home dimensions. Most demon diseases are deadly to humans, but in these cases they worked strange cases on the infected, without actually killing them. And faeries-"

"Faeries are fallen angels," said Dorothea. Wow, she actually cut him off. Nice, old lady. "cast down out of heaven for their pride."

"That's the legend," Jace said. "It's also said that they're the offspring of demons and angels, which always seemed more likely to me. Good and evil, mixing together. Faeries are as beautiful as angels are supposed to be, but they have a lot of mischief and cruelty in them. And you'll notice most of them avoid midday sunlight-"

"For the devil has no power," said Dorothea in a creepy voice. "except in the dark."

Jace scowled at her. Seriously? Again? Clary spoke, "Supposed to be? You mean angels don't-"

"Enough about angels," Dorothea said, rudely. "It's true that warlocks can't have children. My mother adopted me because she wanted to make sure there'd be someone to attend this place after she was gone. I did't have to master magic myself. I only have to watch and guard."

"Guard what?" Clary asked with determination, as if this had something to do with her mother, and who's to say it doesn't?

"What indeed?" The old woman winked, like they're supposed to know the answer. She reached for the sandwich plate, which was empty. Dorothea chuckled and so did Jace. "It's good to see a young woman eat her fill. In my day, girls were robust, strapping creatures, not twigs like they are nowadays."

"Thanks," Clary said, looking red and setting her teacup down with a clatter.

The old woman grabbed the cup instantly and as entertained as a child with their favorite toy. Or, in Jace's case, with his favorite knife.

"What?" Clary asked nervously. "Did I crack the cup or something?"

"She's reading your tea leaves," Jace leaned forward, wanting to know what it says, but also found it ridiculous. Dorothea's face was in a scowl.

"Is it bad?" Clary asked.

"It is neither bad nor good. It is confusing." she looked at Jace. "Give me your cup."

Jace was appalled at her rudeness. "But I'm not done with my-"

She snatched it out of his hand and splashed the tea back into the pot. She looked up at him. "I see violence in your future, a great deal of blood shed by you and others. You'll fall in love with the wrong person. Also, you have an enemy."

"Only one? That's good news." Jace leaned back in his chair. Now, falling in love with the wrong person, well, not so good. violence and blood, he could deal with that.

She picked up Clary's cup again, and shook her head. "There is nothing for me to read here. The images are jumbled, meaningless." She glanced at Clary. "Is there a block in your mind?"

Clary cocked her head to the side, a questioned look on her face. "A what?"

"Like a spell that might conceal a memory, or might have blocked out your Sight?"

She shook her head. "No, of course not."

Jace leaned forward, suddenly interested. "Don't be so hasty," he said. "It's that she claims not to remember having the Sight before this week. Maybe-"

"Maybe I'm just a late developer," she snapped. "And don't _leer_ at me just because I said that."

"I wasn't going to."

"You were working up to a leer, I could tell."

"Maybe," he smirked. "but that doesn't mean I'm not right. Something's blocking your memories, I'm almost sure of it."

"Very well, let's try something else." Dorothea put the cup down, and reached for a deck of beautifully painted cards. She fanned them and handed them out to Clary. "Slide your hand over these until you feel one that feels hot or cold, or seems to cling to your fingers. Then draw one and show it to me."

Clary did what she was told and slowly reached her hand over the cards, slowly, with her hand shaking. She stopped and drew a card.

"The Ace of Cups," Dorothea said, amazed. "The love card."

Clary turned the card over. Jace studied they way her small hands fit the card. She was shaking, and Jace could tell something was wrong. "This is a good card, right?"

"Not necessarily. The most terrible things men do, they do in the name of love," she said and turned her inner therapist on by saying, "But it is a powerful card. What does it mean to you?"

Clary answered instantly, and now Jace knows why she looked at the card the way she did. "That my mother painted it," she dropped it onto the table. "She did, didn't she?"

Dorothea nodded, looking proud. "She painted the whole pack. A gift for me."

"So you say," Jace said, suspicious. "How well did you know Clary's mother?"

Clary gave him a warning look. "Jace, you don't have to-"

But the old women answered. "Jocelyn knew what I was, and I knew what she was. We didn't talk about it much. Sometimes she did favors for me- like painting this pack of cards- and in return I'd tell her the occasional piece of Downworld gossip. There was a name she asked me to keep an ear out for, and I did."

Jace had a million different names turning in his head, but he knew what it was. "What name was that?" He asked anyway.

"Valentine."

Clary sat upright in her chair, obviously horrified. "But thats-"

Jace cut her off. "And when you say you knew what Jocelyn was, what do you mean? What was she?" Jace asked, again knowing the answer.

"Jocelyn was what she was," she said, making Jace roll his eyes. "But in her past she'd been like you. A Shadowhunter. One of the Clave."

"No," Clary whispered. Well, what did she expect? If she was a Shadowhunter than someone had to pass the genes.

Dorothea looked at her kindly. "It's true. She chose to live in this house precisely because-"

"Because this is a Sanctuary." Jace said, just now realizing. "Isn't it? Your mother was a Control. She made this space, hidden, protected- it's a perfect spot for Downworlders on the run to hide out. That's what you do, isn't it? You hide criminals here."

"You _would_ call them that," Dorothea said, in the most disgusting voice she could have possibly made. "You're familiar with the motto of the Covenant?"

"_Sed lex dura lex," _said Jace without hesitation. "The Law is hard, but it is the Law."

"Sometimes the Law is too hard. I know the Clave would have taken me away from my mother if they could. You want me to let them do the same to others?"

"So you're a philanthropist." Jace said, trying to piss her off. "I suppose you expect me to believe that Downworlders don't pay you handsomely for the privilege of your Sanctuary?"

She surprised him with a flattering, but offensive answer. "We can't all get by on our looks like you."

Jace changed positions awkwardly. "I should tell the Clave about you-"

"You can't!" Clary yelled, standing up in front of him now. "You promised."

"I never promised anything." Jace said avoiding her eyes, and feeling guilty, but not guilty enough. He walked over to the velvet patch on the door that caught his eye as she was speaking. "You want to tell me what this is?"

"It's a door, Jace," Clary said, in that same_ you're crazy _voice from Pandemonium. And it did look like a door, but at the same time, anyone with experience would know it's not.

He looked at her. "Shut up," he said, pointing his index finger at her. "It's a Portal. Isn't it?"

"It's a five-dimensional door," Dorothea said, putting down her cards. "Dimensions aren't all straight lines, you know," she added. looking at Clary. "There are dips and folds and nooks and crannies all tucked away. It's a bit hard to explain when you've never studied dimensional theory, but, in essence, that door can take you anywhere in this dimension that you want to go. It's-"

"An escape hatch," Jace said. "That's why your mother wanted to live here. So she could always flee at a moment's notice."

"Then why didn't she-" She broke off, her face blank. "Because of me," she said. "She wouldn't leave without me that night. So she stayed."

Jace saw tears run down her cheek and all his anger vanished. "You can't blame yourself." He ached to pull her into a hug, but he knew she would just push him away.

Clary pushed past Jace to the door. "I want to see where she would've gone," she said her hand on the knob. "I want to see where she was going to escape to-"

"Clary, no!" Jace reached to pull her back, but it was too late. Clary fell through to who knows where. He didn't think before he made his next move and next thing he knew, he was falling after her.


	8. Luke

**Sorry for the wait but I had finals all week so it was pretty crazy.**

**Anyways... ENJOY!**

**xoxoKaylaMariexoxo**

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8

Weapon of Choice

Traveling through a portal is one of those unsettling feelings that no matter how many times you do it, you never get used to it. Like going upside down on a roller coaster.

All these colors were a blur past him and he couldn't make out a single shape. The most dominant color was a startling red coming closer and closer to him until he slammed into the source.

_Clary._

His forehead banged against her, his knees tangled in hers. She coughed in his hair and started to struggle around underneath his weight.

"Ouch," Jace whispered in her ear, trying to ignore the fire spreading across his body from her being underneath him. "You elbowed me."

"Well you _landed_ on me."

He leveled himself up on his elbows and stared at her, trying not to distract himself. "Well, you didn't leave me much of a choice, did you?" he asked. "Not after you decided to leap merrily through that Portal like you were jumping the F train. You're just lucky it didn't dump us out in the East River."

"You didn't have to come after me."

"Yes, I did," he said immediately. " You're far too inexperienced to protect yourself in a hostile situation without me." He said, though there was another reason on his mind.

"That's sweet. Maybe I'll forgive you."

He smiled. "Forgive me? For what?"

"For telling me to shut up."

He narrowed his eyes. "I did not... Well, I did, but you were-"

"Never mind." She rolled over and stretched her arm out. He could feel her breathing underneath him, and it was like a powerful drug to him to feel her heart beating. She was observing the area they landed in. There was a gray clapboard house, a lawn that was pretty much dead and a chain-link fence. He, on the other hand, was still spluttering about how unreasonable she was being, and that's why he mouthed off to her, but she stopped listening a while ago. She froze. "I know where we are."

Jace paused. "What?"

"This is Luke's house." She sat up, pushing Jace off of her. He gracefully stood up and held a hand out to help her. She looked at it, and got up on her own. He smiled to himself and replaced his arm at his side.

Jace took in the building with a sign hanging above it.

He glanced at Clary, bewildered. "He lives in a bookstore?"

"He lives behind the store." Clary's eyes wandered to the street and Jace looked back at the store.

"Jace, how did we get here?"

"Through the Portal," Jace said as he examined the padlock. "It takes you to whatever place you were thinking of."

"But I wasn't thinking of her," Clary objected. "I wasn't thinking of anywhere."

"You must have been." Jace dropped the subject, avoiding another argument. "So, since we're here anyways..."

"Yeah?"

"What do you want to do?"

"Leave, I guess," That is not what he was looking for. "Luke told me not to come here."

Jace shook his head, shocked. She did not seem like the type of girl who listened to people, unless she just doesn't listen to him. "And you just except that?"

Clary hugged herself. "Do I have a choice?"

"We always have choices," Jace encouraged her. "If I were you, I'd be pretty curious about Luke right now. Do you have the keys to the house?"

Clary shook her head. "No, but sometimes he leaves the back door unlocked." She pointed in the direction of the door.

"You sure he isn't home?" Jace asked.

She turned her head to face the house. "Well, his truck's gone, the store's closed, and all the lights are off. I'd say probably not."

"Then lead the way."

* * *

The only obstacle in their way was the chain-link fence, and that was hardly an obstacle. They walked over to it and Jace began to climb it. It rattled loudly as he neared the top and landed on the other side, into the bushes. As he landed, something shrieked from underneath him.

A cat? No, too big under his feet when he jumped on him. Jace fell backward and yelped in surprise. Somebody, a boy, jumped out of the bush. Jace rolled over and ran after him. He grabbed the back of the boy's shirt and lifted him. He was very light and easy to carry. "Got him!" he shouted at Clary. Jace put him down, arms still caught around him. Jace grabbed for his wrist. "Come on, let's see your face-"

"Get the hell off me, you pretentious asshole," the boy pushed Jace off of him and sat on the ground, glasses askew. He recognized him instantly. The mundie who hangs around Clary. The boy that's in love with her. They boy he instantly hated as soon as he heard him talk to her. _Simon_.

Clary got it too. "Simon?"

"Oh, God," Jace said, disappointed. "And here I thought I'd got a hold of something interesting."

"But what were you doing hiding in Luke's bushes?" Clary asked as she bent down on her knees to pick leaves out of the boy's hair. Jace held his grimace in place. "That's the part I don't get."

"All right, that's enough. I can fix my own hair, Fray." Simon said and the image of Clary and his own conversation popped in his mind.

Simon backed away from Clary and sat in the chair as far away from Clary as possible. Luke's porch was very dirty like it hadn't been cleaned in months. Jace was propped against the railing, trying to let the two of them talk, but of course he was listening. He picked up his stele and casually started to file his nails.

"I mean, did Luke know you were there?" she asked.

"Of course he didn't know I was there," Simon said irritably. "I've never asked him, but I'm sure he has a fairly stringent policy about random teenagers lurking in his shrubbery."

"You're not random; he knows you." she paused and Jace looked over. She had moved a chair closer to Simon. Actually, right next to Simon. He wanted so badly to stand up and go over to her and touch her hair or beat the crap out of Simon. He couldn't decide which one he would enjoy more. "The main thing is that you're alright." she said protectively.

"That _I'm_ alright?" Simon laughed angrily. "Clary, do you have any idea what I've been through the past couple of days? The last time I saw you, you were running out of Java Jones like a bat out of hell, and then you just... disappeared. You never picked up your cell- then your home phone was disconnected- the Luke told me you were off staying with some relatives when I know you don't have any other relatives. I'd thought perhaps I'd done something to piss you off."

"What could you have possibly done?" Clary reached for his hand, and Jace flinched and turned around not wanting to see if he takes it or not, he when back to filing.

"I don't know," he said. " Something."

Jace chuckled. Yeah, something. Like when he tried unsuccessfully to express his feelings for her and almost puking. Jace wondered if Clary would want Simon after he puked on her.

"You're my best friend," Clary said. "I wasn't mad at you."

"Yeah, well, you clearly also couldn't be bothered to call me and tell me you were shacking up with some dyed-blond wanna-be goth you probably met at Pandemonium." Simon said, and Jace gave him a sour look. "After I spent the past three days wondering if you were _dead._"

"I was not shacking up," Clary said as Jace blushed, but thankfully it was getting dark so no one could see.

"And my hair is naturally blond," said Jace. "Just for the record."

"So what have you been doing these passed three days, then?" Simon said, his voice was very suspicious. "Do you really have a great aunt Matilda who contracted avian flu and needed to be nursed back to health?"

"Did Luke actually say that?"

"No. He just said you had gone to visit a sick relative, and that your phone probably just didn't work out of the country. Not that I believed him. After he shooed me off his front porch, I went around the side of the house and looked in the back window. Watched him packing up a green duffel bag like he was going away from the weekend. That was when I decided to stick around and keep an eye on things."

"Why? Because he was packing a bag?"

"He was packing it full of weapons," Simon said. Jace's head shot up and glanced at Clary. "Knives, a couple daggers, even a sword. Funny thing is, some of the weapons looked like they were glowing." Simon looked from Clary to Jace, knowing something was up. "Now, are you going to say I was imagining it?"

"No," Clary said, and Jace knew what was coming. "I'm not going to say that." She looked up at him and he felt the weight of her gaze, which he was soon going to have to get used to. "I'm going to tell him the truth."

"I know." Jace said without hesitation.

"Are you going to try to stop me?" she said.

He looked at the stele for a moment. "My oath to the Covenant binds me," he said. "No such oath binds you."

She turned back to Simon and took a deep breath. "All right, here's what you have to know."

* * *

Jace could not stand to hear Clary explaining basically something he was told to keep secret since he moved here. In Idiris it wasn't a problem since everyone there was a Shadowhunter or someone of the sort. But to tell a mundane, someone he absolutely cannot stand, was horrible. Clary finished talking and the three of them sat in utter silence. It was broken a couple minutes later with Clary clearing her throat. "So," she said awkwardly. "any questions?"

Simon held up his hand like a schoolboy. "Oh, I've got questions. Several."

"Okay, shoot." Clary said.

He pointed at Jace. "Now he's a- what do you call people like him again?"

"He's a Shadowhunter," Clary said, sounding just as uncomfortable as Jace was.

"A demon hunter," Jace clarified. "I kill demons. It's not that complicated, really."

Simon looked at Clary. "For real?" His eyes were narrowed and his glasses were sliding to the bridge of his nose. Jace rolled his eyes, hoping they wouldn't have to explain again.

"For real." Clary said.

Jace was looking at his nails. They looked good. Not a flaw.

"And there are vampires, too? Werewolves, warlocks, all that stuff?"

"So I hear."

"And you kill them, too?" Simon said. Jace looked up to find Simon and Clary looking up at him.

"Only when they've been naughty."

Simon looked at his feet and Jace knew Clary was worried. He could still see the green in her eyes, though the sun had gone done. She wasn't looking at him, she was looking at the scrawny, curly haired boy with the glasses. Jace shook his head when Simon finally decided to break the silence."That is _so awesome_," he said.

Jace was startled, and by the look on her face, so was Clary. "Awesome?"

The kid nodded as if he was a golden retriever sticking his head out the window and his head lost all control. "Totally. It's like Dungeons and Dragons, but _real_."

Jace stared at Simon with his eyes narrowed and his mouth wide open. "It's like what?"

"It's a game," Clary explained. "People pretend to be wizards and elves, and the kill monster and stuff."

Jace officially hated mundanes. _  
_

Simon grinned, and although it was meant to be an excited grin, it looked evil to him. "You've never heard of Dungeons and Dragons?"

"I've heard of dungeons," Jace said, matter-of-factly. "Also dragons. Although they're mostly extinct."

He looked disappointed. "You've never killed a dragon?"

"He's probably never met a six-foot-tall hot elf-woman in a fur bikini, either," Clary said, defending him. "Lay off, Simon."

Jace smiled. "Real elves are about eight inches tall," Jace pointed out. "Also, they bite."

"But vampires are hot right?" Simon asked. "I mean, some of the vampires are babes, aren't they?"

Jace actually considered this question. "Some of them, maybe."

Clary looked at him as if he just ran up to a badger and bit his butt just for amusement. He shrugged.

_"Awesome,"_ Simon repeated.

Jace slid off the porch railing and decided to move on from this subject. "So, are we going to search the house, or not?"

Simon scrambled to his feet. "I'm game. What are we looking for?"

"_ We_?" said Jace, not wanting him to join their group. "I don't remember inviting you along."

_"Jace,"_ Clary said angrily.

He smiled at her and laughed. "Just joking." He stepped aside to let Clary passed him so she could open the door. "Shall we?"

She blindingly walked to the door and opened it. They walked into the entryway to find another door awaiting them. Clary tried to open that one too, but it wouldn't budge. "It's locked."

"Allow me, mundanes," he stepped in front of them and whipped his stele out. He created a simple opening rune and waited for it to take effect. "Here we go," Jace said as he looked back over at the two, who seemed to be in conversation. The three walked into the store as the rune faded above them.

There were cardboard boxes everywhere they looked that had genres written on them. "Fiction," "Poetry," "Cooking," "Local Interest," "Romance." and so many others.

"The apartment's through there." Clary said, and started to lead the way. Jace saw something dripping from the distance.

Jace caught her arm. "Wait."

The look she gave him was fear. Nervous, but mostly fear. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know." He walked over to whatever was dripping. He was pretty sure he knew what it was. "Clary, you might want to come over here and see this."

She just stood there, shaking her head. "It's so dark-"

He lit the room with his witchlight stone. The light was bright and it reflected off of Simon's glasses. "Ouch!" he exclaimed and turned to the side a bit.

Jace chuckled. Oh, mundanes. "Witchlight," he said, answering their unasked question. Clary was behind him as he examined a space on the wall and he tried to ignored the feeling he got from her closeness. "Look at that," he pointed to the space. "Are those..." he said, though he knew what they were.

"Manacles," Simon said. "That's, ah..."

"Don't say 'kinky.'" Clary sounded angry and shot Simon a warning look. "This is Luke we're talking about."

Jace ran his hand along the inside of a metal loop. It came away wet. He was right. "Blood. And look." He pointed the the plaster on the wall that seemed to bulge outward. "Someone tried to yank these things out of the wall. Tried pretty hard, from the looks of it."

"Do you think Luke is all right?"

Jace gave her an honest, but not too painful answer. "I think we'd better find out."

The door to the apartment was unlocked, and it led to a living area. There were tons of books in there as well. He saw Simon walk over to the kitchen.

"I think he's still around," called Simon. "The percolator's on and there's coffee here. Still hot."

Jace stayed with Simon examining the kitchen while Clary went to wander. He was right, coffee was still hot. Dishes were in the sink, jackets on hooks. Besides the manacles, nothing seemed to be wrong, but Jace knew that to be false.

"Where did you see the duffel bag?" he asked Simon.

"The office. Hey wait-" Simon began and thought better of it.

"What?" Jace asked threateningly. "What is it, mundane?"

"You should probably leave Clary alone," Simon said, his voice shaking with fear, as it should be with him talking to Jace like that. But Jace stopped dead in his tracks. He was surprised that the mundane boy would come out and say this.

"I don't know what you think is going on, but nothing is. Now, where is the duffel bag, again?"

"The office." Simon said quietly.

He found the office and saw the duffel bag lying there. You would think that if Luke was no longer here he would've brought his bag with him, but they all knew that this was no normal occasion. Jace opened it and saw that Simon was right. It had been full of weapons from knives to daggers to swords. And they were glowing. He picked up the razor sharp disk. He also saw a picture of Clary and her mom and Luke, he had guessed at least. The picture was cracked, like someone stepped on it. He set it aside.

Clary came in and she was wearing different clothes. They suited her better than Isabelle's clothes that were way too big. She was wearing a T-shirt with some cartoon on it and jeans."It's a _chakram," _he said as she walked over to him. "A Sikh weapon. You whirl it around your index finger before releasing it. They're rare and hard to use. Strange that Luke would have one. They used to be Hodge's weapon of choice, back in the day. Or so he tells me."

"Luke collects stuff. Art objects. You know," she was wandering over to the shelf behind Luke's desk. There were statuettes lined up. He pointed to an Indian girl, well, more than a girl. She looked powerful and she had a sword. A warrior princess, maybe. "Pretty things." she concluded, and he guessed she liked that doll.

Jace continued to look through Luke's bag. He put the chakram down and picked up a pile of clothes from the suitcase. He picked to picture back up and showed it to her. "I think this is yours, by the way."

She looked at it and quickly took it from him, as if she were embarrassed. "That is mine,"

"It's cracked," Jace said.

"I know. _I _did that- I smashed it. When I threw it at the Ravener demon." By the Angel, Jace thought. Luke took that from the other apartment.

Obviously Clary was thinking the same thing. "That means Luke's been back to the apartment since the attack. Maybe even today-"

"He must have been the last person to come through the Portal," Jace realized, putting pieces together. "That's why it took us here. You weren't thinking of anything, so it sent us back to the last place it had been."

"Nice of Dorothea to tell us he was there," Clary said.

"He probably paid her off to be quiet. Either that or she trusts him more than she trusts us. Which means he might not be-"

"Guys!" It was Simon, attitude totally changed since their encounter five minutes ago. Because now, instead of pretending to be a tough-guy, he looked like he just pissed his pants. "Someone's coming!"

A loud _bang!_ sounded as Clary dropped the photo. "Is it Luke?"

Simon peered down the hall and nodded. "It is. But he's not by himself- there are two men with him."

"Men?" Jace crossed the room to Simon and his heart sped up. _Dammit._ "Warlocks."

Clary stared at him in disbelief. "Warlocks? But-"

Jace didn't want to hear it. He turned to Clary and walked up to her. He whispered, panicked. "Is there some other way out of here? A back door?"

Clary shook her head and shied away from him. Jace looked around desperately. The last thing he needed was to be exposed for breaking and entering. He spotted a rosewood screen. "Get behind that," he said. "_Now."_

Clary was holding onto Simon and they slipped behind the screen. Jace followed in behind them and took out his stele. He got behind the screen just in time because the moment he did, he heard the door open. Jace lifted his stele up to make sure they could see the conversation. His stele drew softly from corner to corner a big square. As he was drawing, he realized their voices sounded familiar, He finished the square and it became clear. Simon and Clary looked at him as if he were crazy. Me mouthed the words:_ They can't see us through it, but we can see them._

The "window" Jace created did not show the whole room. Right now all they could see was Luke. He looked torn up and nothing like he did in the picture. He had glasses on the top of his hair and he was all dirty.

Luke looked at the men and sarcastically said. " Yes, feel free to look around," Jace noticed his voice was scratchy. "Nice of you to show such an interest."

Jace tapped the frame of his "window" to make it bigger. Now he could see the other two men and saw why they sounded familiar. His heart sped up slightly at first, from shock. Then, it slowed from sadness and soon became a motor in his chest from the anger that was coming off of him in rolls.

"Those are warlocks?" Clary whispered softly. Jace didn't answer. Fire was running through his veins now. Anger, sadness and shock mixed into one feeling he hasn't felt for seven years. He stared at the men in the burgundy cloaks with a hateful passion.

The one with the familiar gray mustache started to speak. "Consider this a friendly follow-up, _Graymark_," he said. He smiled so big, that Jace could see his teeth, which looked sharpened to a point.

"There's nothing friendly about you, Pangborn." Luke said. Jace tore his eyes off the men he despised and looked at Luke. He was bloody in many places; his fingers, a few spots on his face. But the most noticeable would be the long cut that started at his jaw and ran all the way down to the collar of his shirt. It was probably longer under his shirt. He glanced at Clary and her eyes were wide on Luke. Her hand trembled and Jace worried for her for a second. But that was interrupted by Luke.

"Blackwell, don't touch that- it's valuable," Luke said sternly.

The huge man with red hair was holding the doll that Clary liked.

"Nice," he said, simply.

Luke said. "I suppose Valentine sent you?" Valentine?

"He did," said Pangborn. "He thought you might have changed your mind."

"There is nothing to change my mind about. I already told you I don't know anything. Nice cloaks, by the way."

"Thanks," said Blackwell with his ugly, sly grin. "Skinned off a couple of dead warlocks."

"Those are official Accord robes, aren't they?" Luke asked. "Are they from the uprising?"

Pangborn chuckled softly. The sound echoed in Jace's mind like a broken recored. "Spoils of battle."

"Aren't you afraid someone might mistake you for the real thing?"

"Not," Blackwell said. "once they got up close."

Pangborn started playing with his robe. "Do you remember the Uprising, Lucian?" he said in a scary soft voice that sent chills up Jace's spine. "That was a great and terrible day. Do you remember how we trained together for the battle?"

Luke's face looked the same as Jace was feeling. He looked as if he was remembering horrible memories from the past, just as Jace was. "The past is the past. I don't know what to tell you gentlemen. I can't help you now. I don't know anything."

"'Anything' is such a general word, so unspecific," said Pangborn, sounding as if he were about to rip Luke's head off, and then apologize for doing it. Like a scary-kind person. "Surely someone who owns so many books must know _something_."

"If you want to find out where to find a jog-toed swallow in springtime, I could direct you to the right reference title. But if you want to know where the Mortal cup has disappeared to..."

"Disappeared might not be quite the correct word," purred Pangborn. "Hidden, more like. Hidden by Jocelyn." Jocelyn? Clary's mom?

"That may be," said Luke. "So she hasn't told you where it is yet?"

"She has not yet regained consciousness," said Pangborn. "Valentine is disappointed. He was looking forward to their reunion."

"I'm sure she didn't reciprocate the sentiment," Luke muttered under his breath.

Pangborn cackled. "Jealous, Graymark? Perhaps you no longer feel about her the way you _used_ to." Clary started to tremble, Jace could sense it. He looked over at her intertwined fingers and realized that they were indeed talking about her mother.

"I never felt any way about her, particularly," said Luke. "Two Shadowhunters, exiled from their own kind, you can see why we might have banded together. But I'm not going to try to interfere with Valentine's plans for her, if that's what he's worried about."

"I wouldn't say he was worried," said Pangborn. "More curious. We all wondered if you were still alive. Still recognizably human."

Luke's eyebrows shot up. "And?"

"You seem well enough," said Pangborn. He sat the doll, Kali, on the shelf. "There was a child wasn't there? A girl."

Luke looked up at the men abruptly. "What?"

"Don't play dumb," hissed Blackwell. "We know the bitch had a daughter. They found photos of her in the apartment, a bedroom-"

"Yes, Jocelyn had a daughter, Clarissa. I assume she's run off. Did Valentine send you to find her?" Jace suddenly felt very protective over Clary and glanced at her. She was as pale as a ghost.

"Not us," said Pangborn. "But he is looking."

He stared at the two men coldly. "What makes you think she's still alive? I thought Valentine sent Raveners to scour the place. Enough Ravener poison, and most people will crumble away to ashes, leave no trace behind."

"There was a dead Ravener," said Pangborn. "It made Valentine suspicious."

"Everything makes Valentine suspicious," said Luke. "Maybe Jocelyn killed it. She was certainly capable."

Blackwell grunted, obviously not believing Luke's story. "Maybe."

"I'm not planning on interfering with Valentine's plans, do you understand that? I'm not a fool."

"Really?" said Blackwell, being plain old nasty. "It's nice to see that you've developed a healthy respect for your own skin over the years, Lucian. You weren't always so pragmatic."

"You do know," said Pangborn. "that we'd trade her, Jocelyn, for the Cup? Safely delivered right to your door. That's a promise from Valentine himself."

"I know," said Luke. "I'm not interested. I don't know where your precious Cup is, and I don't want to get involved with your politics. I hate Valentine," he added, almost as an afterthought. "but I respect him. I know he'll mow down everyone in his path. I intend to be out of his way when it happens. He's a monster- a killing machine."

"Look who's talking," snarled Blackwell. The fire in Jace's veins told him to drive a blade through his heart, but he knew better.

"I take it these are your preparations for removing yourself from Valentine's path?" said Pangborn, pointing to the duffel bag that was half packed. "Getting out of town, Lucian?"

Luke nodded, slowly. Jace could tell Luke was doing something that he would not let these men know about. "Going to the country. I plan to lay low for a while."

"We could stop you, " said Blackwell, advancing on Luke. "Make you stay."

Luke smiled. The man in front of them was not the man in the picture. He was... vicious. Even the two bastards were starting to look frightened, which made him instantly like Luke. "You could try."

Pangborn glanced at Blackwell, who shook his head. Pangborn turned back to Luke. "You'll notify us if you experience any sudden memory resurgence?"

Luke was still smiling, but he looked friendlier. "You'll be the first on my list to call."

Pangborn nodded slowly. "I suppose we'll take our leave. The Angel guard you, Lucian."

"The Angel does not guard those like me," Luke quickly shoved the rest of his items in his bag and knotted the top. "On your way gentlemen?"

Jace watched the three of them walk out of the room slowly. The men lifted their hoods up over their heads and left. Luke looked around the room one last time, and followed them out.

The fire in his veins was cooling off, just a little bit, but it was definitely still there. Jace's heart slowly was going back to normal. Jace focused his attention on Clary beside him. She was as frozen with betrayal. Simon, whom Jace forgot he was even here, put his hand on Clary's shoulder.

"Clary?" Simon said, sounding gentle and caring. "Are you okay?"

Clary shook her head and her lip trembled. Jace could tell she was trying hard not to cry. "Of course she isn't." Jace said, coming across harsh, which wasn't really meant for Simon, but just his anger inside. He moved the screen aside so they could get out of the tight space. "At least now we know who would send a demon after your mother. Those men think she has the Mortal Cup."

Her lips thinned into a straight line, doubting. "That's totally ridiculous and impossible."

"Maybe," said Jace. He leaned against Luke's desk and caught Clary's eyes. He looked at her for a second before saying something. "Have you ever seen those men before?"

"No." She shook her head. "Never."

"Lucian seemed to know them. To be friendly with them." Jace said in disgust.

"I wouldn't say friendly," said Simon. "I'd say they were suppressing their hostility."

"They didn't kill him outright," said Jace. "They think he knows more than he's telling."

"Maybe," said Clary. "or maybe they're just reluctant to kill another Shadowhunter."

Jace surprised himself by laughing. "I doubt that."

She grimaced at him. "What makes you so sure? Do you know them?"

Jace felt the fire again. "Do I know them?" he echoed. "You might say that. Those are the men who murdered my father."


	9. Secrets Revealed

9

The Circle and The Brotherhood

What happened next was a blur to Jace. His head swam from the effort of forcing himself not to run after the two men who murdered his father before his eyes all those years ago. Time doesn't heal all wounds. He felt Clary touch his arm, but he shook it off not wanting to be comforted.

"We should go," he said, standing and making his way out of the room. He could hear Clary and the mundane following him and didn't turn to check. "We don't know when Luke might come back."

Jace took out his stele to lock the door behind them as they made their way out of the house. It had gotten dark during their time spent in the house and the streetlights were faintly glowing.

"Does anyone want to tell me where we're going?" The mundie spoke up from somewhere behind Jace.

Jace normally would have pointed out that _we _weren't going anywhere, but his mind was elsewhere when he replied, "The L train."

"You've got to be kidding me," the mundane said, sounding disappointed. "Demon slayers take the subway?"

"It's faster than driving."

"I thought it'd be something cooler, like a van with 'Death to Demons' painted on the outside or-"

"Simon," Clary said, angrily. "Enough."

Jace turned in time to see the confused and hurt look on the mundie's face. He turned back and continued on but he could feel Clary's eyes on his back.

* * *

"You live_ here? _But it's a church!" Jace turned to look at the mundane with an_ are you serious? _look before reaching into the neck of his shirt and grabbed his key.

"We find it useful to inhabit hallowed ground," Jace answered anyway.

"I get that but, no offense, this place is a dump."

Clary sighed and said, "It's a glamour, Simon, it doesn't really look like this."

"If this is your idea of a glamour, I'm having second thoughts about letting you make me over."

Jace fit the key in the lock as he resisted a well deserved face palm. He turned to face Simon. "I'm not sure you're quite sensible to the honor I'm doing you," he said. "You'll be the first mundane who has ever been inside the Institute." He looked at Clary. He wished she would just tell him to go home.

"Probably the smell keeps the rest of them away."

"Ignore him," Clary said to Jace. "He always says exactly what comes into his head. No filters."

"Filters are for cigarettes and coffee," Simon said, then added, "Two things I could use right now, incidentally."

As they started up the stairs, Clary seemed to be in a trance. He held back a smile. They walked on over to the elevator and stepped inside. When the elevator stopped, they stepped out, and Jace threw his jacket on a nearby chair. He started to whistle through his teeth, a nervous habit of his. Needless to say a rare occurrence.

"Church," Jace said, kneeling down to stroke the cat that walked over upon hearing the elevator. "Where's Alec, Church? Where's Hodge?" he meowed in response and Jace said, "Are they in the library?" Church started to trot down the narrow hallway. Jace waved his hand indicating that Clary and Simon follow.

"I don't like cats," Simon said, behind Jace.

"It's unlikely, knowing Church, that he likes you either."

They passed through a huge wall of doors. "How many people live here, exactly?"

"It's an institute," Clary said. "A place where Shadowhunters can stay when they're in the city. Like a sort of combination safe haven and research facility."

"I thought it was a church." Jace rolled his eyes.

"It's inside a church."

"Because _that's_ not confusing." There was a moment of silence, and then soft whispering.

They ended up in the kitchen, which was not smelling that great. And that was because, there was Isabelle, with a big spoon in her hand, which means she's cooking.

"I'm making soup," Isabelle said waving her spoon at Jace without looking up. "Are you hungry? Oh, my God," she said, finally glancing up. "You brought a mundie here? Hodge is going to kill you."

Simon closed his mouth that was wide open and cleared his throat. "I'm Simon." he croaked.

Isabelle's face turned scarlet. "JACE WAYLAND," she screamed. "Explain yourself."

Jace looked down and glared at the cat. "I told you to bring me to Alec! Backstabbing Judas." Church purred and rubbed against Jace's leg.

"Don't blame Church," Isabelle said, "It's not his fault Hodge is going to kill you."

"I had to bring him," Jace said, and brought up what has been bothering him. "Isabelle- today I saw two of the men who killed my father."

Isabelle turned around fast. "I don't suppose he's one of them?" she said pointing her spoon at Simon.

For once the mundane is silent. Jace looked at him, and he was just staring at Isabelle.

"Of course not," Jace said. "Do you think he'd be alive now if he were?"

Isabelle gave Simon a one-over before stating, "I suppose not." She dropped a fish on the floor and Church pounced.

"No wonder he brought us here," said Jace, disgusted. "I can't believe you've been stuffing him with fish again. He's looking distinctively podgy.

"He does not look podgy. Besides, none of the rest of you ever eat anything. I got this recipe from a water sprite at the Chelsea Market. He said it was delicious-"

"If you knew how to cook, maybe I _would_ eat." Jace muttered under his breath.

Isabelle froze, and turned to glared fiercely at him. "_What _did you say?"

Jace headed toward the fridge. "I said I'm going to look for a snack to eat."

"That's what I thought you said." Jace opened the refrigerator door and looked for something. Clary was right behind him.

"I can't believe you're eating," she hissed at him.

Jace didn't see the problem with that. "What should I be doing instead?" he said, still peering in the fridge.

"Wow, he's like a crazy roommate," she said. He wondered what she was talking about when he saw the labels on the containers that said: HODGE'S. DO NOT EAT.

"What, Hodge? He just likes things in order." He took one of the containers out of the fridge and opened it. "Hmm, Spaghetti."

"Don't ruin your appetite," Isabelle called.

"That," said Jace, "is exactly what I intend to do." He glanced at Clary and asked, "Want some?"

She shook her head.

"Of course not," he said, his mouth stuffed. "You ate all those sandwiches."

"It wasn't that many sandwiches." She flushed slightly in a rather endearing way. He shook his head slightly as if to shake the thoughts out before taking another bite of spaghetti. "Can we go find Hodge now?"

"You seem awfully eager to get out of here."

"Don't you want to tell him what we saw?"

"I haven't decided yet. But if you want to go so badly-"

"I do." she said without hesitation.

"Fine." He said, placing his container and fork in the sink and turned back to find Clary studying. She flushed when their eyes met and looked away.

"Where are you going?" Simon finally said, looking up from Isabelle for the first time.

"To find Hodge," Clary said. "I need to tell him what happened at Luke's."

Isabelle glanced up. "Are you going to tell him that you saw those men, Jace? The ones that-"

"I don't know." He said, cutting her off so she didn't say the words. "So keep it to yourself for now."

She shrugged. "Alright. Are you going to come back? Do you want any soup?"

"No," said Jace.

"Do you think Hodge will want any soup?"

"No one wants any soup."

"I want some soup," Simon said. Jace rolled his eyes.

"No, you don't," said Jace."You just want to sleep with Isabelle."

Simon turned a bright shade of scarlet. "That is _not_ true."

"How flattering," Isabelle said, smirking into her soup.

"Oh, yes it is," said Jace, ignoring Isabelle. "Go ahead and ask her- than she can turn you down and the rest of us can get on with our lives while you fester in miserable humiliation." He snapped his fingers. "Hurry up mundie boy, we've got work to do."

Simon looked away in embarrassment. Clary turned to face Jace.

"Leave him alone," she snapped. "There's no need to be sadistic just because he isn't one of you."

Jace looked at her softly. "One of _us,"_ he said. "I'm going to find Hodge. Come along or not, it's your choice." He left the three of them in the kitchen. He started to walk down the hallway and twirled his seraph blade in between his fingers. He heard Clary following him and he pocketed it.

"Kind of you to leave the lovebirds to it." he said sarcastically.

Clary frowned at him. "Why are you always such and asshat?"

"An asshat?" Jace held back his laughter; that's a new one.

"What you said to Simon-"

"I was trying to save him some pain. Isabelle will cut out his heart and walk all over it in high-heeled boots. That's what she does to boys like that."

"Is that what she did to you?" She snapped. This time he did laugh but didn't reply.

"Hodge," he said to the cat the followed them out of the kitchen. "And _really _Hodge this time. Bring us anywhere else, and I'll make you into a tennis racket." The cat slumped down the hall in front of them.

"Jace." He turned to look at her and looked into her eyes for a moment. Then he said, "What?"

"I'm sorry. For snapping at you."

He chuckled but couldn't help the rush of warmth at her voice. "Which time?"

"You snap at me, too, you know."

"I know," he said. She looked taken aback. "There's something about you that's so-"

"Irritating?" _Hypnotizing, sexy, alluring maybe..._

He shook his head again before responding with, "Unsettling."

This was the truth. He was not the same when she was around.

"Does Isabelle always make you dinner?" she asked, changing the subject.

"No, thank God. Most of the time the Lightwoods are here and Maryse- that's Isabelle's mother- she cooks for us. She's an amazing cook."

"Then how come she never taught Isabelle?" She asked.

"Because," Jace said slowly. "It's only been recently that women have been Shadowhunters along with men. I mean, there have always been women in the Clave- mastering the runes, creative weaponry, teaching in the Killing Arts- but only a few warriors, ones with exceptional abilities. They had to fight to be trained. Maryse was part of the first generation of Clave women who were trained as a matter of course- and I think she never taught Isabelle how to cook because she was afraid that if she did, Isabelle would be relegated to the kitchen permanently."

"Would she have been?" Clary's voice was laced with curiosity.

Jace thought of all the battles they have fought with her. All of the demons Izzy had killed.

And then Jace laughed. "Not Isabelle. She's one of the best Shadowhunters I've ever known."

"Better than Alec?"

Jace hesitated but was relieved of the question as Church stopped at the bottom of the staircase leading into the greenhouse. "So he's in the greenhouse," Jace said to the cat. "No surprise there."

"The greenhouse?" Clary said.

"Hodge likes it up there. He grows medicinal plants, things we can use. Most of them only grow in Idris. I think it reminds him of home.

Jace walked up the steps and Clary followed. "Is he better than Isabelle?" she asked again. "Alec, I mean?"

He flipped around so that he was leaning down towards her. He was a few steps higher than her. "Better?" he said. "At demon slaying? No, not really. He's never killed a demon."

"Really?"

"I don't know why not. Maybe because he's always protecting Izzy and me." Jace and Clary walked up the rest of the stairs where they see the vine covered double doors. Jace pushed it open.

The greenhouse was beautiful. Jace loved it. He came here a lot at night. There was a flower that he called the midnight flower, because it blossoms at midnight. Sometimes he would come up and watch it bloom. He found it very interesting.

"It smells like..." Clary trailed off.

"Home." he finished for her. "to me." He pushed aside a hanging frond and ducked past it.

Hodge was spotted instantly. He was sitting on a bench with Hugo on his shoulder. He had been staring at the water with deep focus. He looked up when they walked in.

"You look like you're waiting for something," Jace observed. He picked a leaf off of a nearby tree and started to play with it. He always had to do _something_.

"I was lost in thought." Hodge focused in on them and his eyes narrowed and he looked worried. "What happened? You look as if-"

"We were attacked," Jace said, remembering. It seemed like forever ago that they were in Clary's apartment. But it was only a few hours ago. "Forsaken."

"Forsaken warriors? Here?"

"Warrior," Jace cleared up. "We only saw one."

"But Dorothea said there were more," Clary added. This made Jace want to duct tape her mouth closed.

"Dorothea?" Hodge held his hand up, having heard too much information to let sink in. "This might be easier if you took events in order."

"Right." Jace looked at Clary with a look that he hoped told her to shut up. He wasn't sure if she cared. He jumped into their day starting off with Clary's apartment. Then their visit with Dorothea. And then Luke's place. This took the longest to explain. First, he had to tell him how they got there. When he was explaining this, Hodge's head turn towards Clary. Probably because of the fact that she jumped through a magic portal without knowing where it would take her. Then he had to mention the mundane. That was going to get him in trouble later, when their... guest wasn't around. He also told him about Luke's. All except for the part where the two men that were there, were the two men who killed his father. "Clary's mother's friend- or whatever he is, really- goes by the name Luke Garroway." He finally got out. "But while we were at his house, the two men who claimed they were emissaries of Valentine referred to him as Lucian Graymark."

"And their names were..."

"Pangborn." Jace said, fire revisiting his lungs. "And Blackwell."

Hodge had gone pale. He must've known them, or at least heard a great deal about them. "It is as I feared," he said quietly. "The Circle is rising again."

Jace caught Clary's questioning gaze, but he was just as confused as her. "The Circle?" he asked.

Hodge was shaking his head violently. "Come with me," he said. "It's time I showed you something."

* * *

When they went to the library, it was clear Hodge had been stressed lately. His desk was the most cluttered it has ever been. Clary sat down on the sofa, and Jace followed. He sat next to her, and leaned on the arm of the couch to avoid them touching. "Hodge, if you need help looking-"

"Not at all." Hodge emerged from behind the desk, brushing dust from the knees of his trousers. "I've found it."

He held in his hand a big, leathery looking book. It looked really old. But Hodge carefully started to look through it. He started to mutter. "Where... where... ah, here it is!" he exclaimed. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud. "_I hereby render unconditional obedience to the Circle and its principles... I will be ready to risk my life at any time for the Circle, in order to preserve the purity of the bloodlines of Idris, and for the mortal world with whose safety we are charged."_

Jace felt his eyes widen and his mouth do a funky look. "What was that from?"

"It was the loyalty oath of the Circle of Raziel, twenty years ago," said Hodge, who sounded tired. Jace couldn't blame him. things have been tense here since their last visit to the Pandemonium club.

"It sounds creepy," said Clary. "Like a fascist organization or something."

Hodge set the book down. He looked as if something were paining him. Jace understands him being tired, but pained? He was starting to worry about him. Something was off.

"They were a group," he said. "of Shadowhunters, led by Valentine, dedicated to wiping out all Downworlders and returning the world to a 'purer' state. Their plan was to wait for the Downworlders to arrive in Idris to sign the Accords. Approximately every fifteen years, they must be signed again, to keep their magic potent," he explained to Clary. Jace couldn't believe how fast she was catching on to this new world. "Then, they planned to slaughter them all, unarmed and defenseless. This terrible act, they thought, would speak off a war between humans and Downworlders- one they intended to win."

"That was the Uprising," said Jace. He remembered hearing about the Uprising from... everywhere. He just never understood why it happened and what it connected with. "I didn't know Valentine and his followers had a name."

"The name isn't spoken often nowadays," said Hodge. "Their existence remains an embarrassment to the Clave. Most documents pertaining them have been destroyed."

"Then why do you have a copy of the oath?" Jace asked.

Hodge took a moment to tell them. "Because, I helped write it."

Jace looked up, stunned. "You were in the Circle." It felt as if his trust towards Hodge was slowly going down a drain, but the drain was clogged, keeping it from slipping.

"I was. Many of us were." Hodge looked at Clary. "Clary's mother as well."

Clary jerked back and hit the back of the couch. Jace, even though was the one who suspected her mother to be part of the Clave, wasn't expecting her to be part of the Circle. "_What_?"

"I said-"

"I know what you said! My mother would never have belonged to something like that. Some kind of- some kind of hate group."

"It wasn't-" Jace tried to explain, but Hodge cut him off.

"I doubt.," he said slowly. He obviously wasn't looking forward to discussing this. "that she had much of a choice."

Cary stared at Hodge, because she was thinking the same thing as he was. Everyone has a choice. "What are you talking about? Why wouldn't she have a choice?"

"Because," Hodge said, and Jace half expected to her the suspension music from a dramatic scene in a movie as Hodge answered the million dollar question. "she was Valentine's wife."


	10. Magnus' Party (part 1)

**First Come, First Serve**

**The First review I received was to rewrite "Magnus' Party" and your wish is my command (well unless your wish is stupid, of course) so here's Magnus' Party. If this wasn't your first choice or whatever don't worry! I will my best and get all the suggestions done! **

**BTW none of these AWESOME characters belong to me, agony IK! but be that as it may the are the beautiful, some more than others (Jace), creation of the one and only Cassandra Clare.**

**Enjoy, Stay tuned for the second part of this scene.**

**xoxoKaylaMariexoxo**

_I'm Just reminding her about the party, that's all. _Well that's what he tells himself. Jace walks silently towards Clary's door, not wanting to admit to himself the real reason. He wasn't completely sure about this girl but he did know three things for sure.

1) He can't quiet get this beautiful red-headed girl out of his mind. Her face, her voice, the gorgeous smile he so rarely saw on her face. All of it embedded in his mind.

2) She was unlike any girl hes ever been with, and he's been with a lot of girls. She's _special._

3) He felt _something _for this girl, he didn't know what but saying there was nothing there was out of the question.

He reached he door and quietly knocked on her door, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep but still hoping she would. Nothing. He wondered if he should just go but dismissed the thought as absurd as he slowly opened her door leaching light from the hall into the darkness that was her room.

No one was in there.

_5 minutes_, Jace told himself. He'd wait 5 minutes and if she didn't come he'd leave, at least that's what he told himself. He turned his head to look at the clock beside her bed. Blocking the faint, red glow o the time was her sketchpad.

_Well, might as well._ But it was more than that, he was _curious._

He didn't know how long he sat there, longer than 5 minutes, no doubt, when he heard the faint creek of the door signaling someone was coming in. He looked up to see his favorite red head clutching a vial filled with green liquid. He could smell the pleasant scent of juniper and leaves drifting from the opened vial.

She was surprised to see him sprawled on her bed, it was clear on her face. She shrieked and dropped the opened vial. The greenish, sweet-smelling liquid spilled on the hardwood floor.

"Oh, dear," said Jace sitting up completely now, gently laying the sketching back in its place beside the bed."I hope that wasn't anything important."

"It was a sleeping potion," she said angrily, toeing the vial with the tip of her sneaker, probably not wanting to touch it. "And now it's gone."

"If only Simon were here. He could probably bore you to sleep," Jace tried to ignore the mixed feeling of anger and something her later placed as jealousy when he said the mundanes name.

Clary didn't try to defend her friend. She came and sat down on the bed beside Jace. "I don't usually let people look at this."

"Why not?" Jace felt worn and no doubt look tousled like he'd been sleeping for hours. "You're a pretty good artist. Sometime even excellent." _A lot better than excellent_, he thought, but he didn't want to sound too interested.

"Well, because- it's like a diary. Except I don't think in words, I think in pictures, so it's all drawings. But it's still private." She looked unsure of herself as she said this, as if she was wondering if he thought she was crazy. He didn't.

Going for cocky, he composed his face into a wounded expression. "A diary with no drawings of me in it? Where are the torrid fantasies? The romance novel covers. The-"

"Do _all _girls you meet fall in love with you?" Clary asked quietly.

The question deflated, bringing him out of his charade, like a pin popping a balloon. "It's not _love_," he said, pausing. "At least-"

She cut him of again. If it was anyone but her he would be about pissed by now. "You could try not being charming all the time," Clary said. "It might be a relief for everyone."

Any other time he would have been elated to the thought of her thinking he was charming, but now all that was on his mind was his past. He looked down at his hands, his faintly scared hands that were still young and unlined.

"If you're really tired, I could put you to sleep," He said, still looking at his hands. "Tell you a bedtime story."

He saw her look at him from the corner of his eyes, her face filled with a look of astonishment. "Are you serious?" The surprise was clear in her voice, too.

"I'm always serious."

She studied his face for a moment then set her sketchpad back into its place and laid down, curling sideways into her pillow. "Okay." was all she replied.

"Close your eyes" He looked from his hands to she her snap her eyes shut and snuggle further into the pillow.

"Once there was a boy," said Jace.

Clary interrupted immediately. "A Shadowhunter boy?"

"Of course." For a moment a bleak amusement colored his voice. Then it was gone.

"When the boy was six  
years old, his father gave him a falcon to train. Falcons are raptors-killing birds, his father told him, the  
Shadowhunters of the sky.

"The falcon didn't like the boy, and the boy didn't like it, either. Its sharp beak made him nervous, and its  
bright eyes always seemed to be watching him. It would slash at him with beak and talons when he came near:  
For weeks his wrists and hands were always bleeding. He didn't know it, but his father had selected a falcon  
that had lived in the wild for over a year, and thus was nearly impossible to tame. But the boy tried, because  
his father had told him to make the falcon obedient, and he wanted to please his father.

"He stayed with the falcon constantly, keeping it awake by talking to it and even playing music to it, because  
a tired bird was meant to be easier to tame. He learned the equipment: the jesses, the hood, the brail, the leash  
that bound the bird to his wrist. He was meant to keep the falcon blind, but he couldn't bring himself to do  
it-instead he tried to sit where the bird could see him as he touched and stroked its wings, willing it to trust  
him. He fed it from his hand, and at first it would not eat. Later it ate so savagely that its beak cut the skin of  
his palm. But the boy was glad, because it was progress, and because he wanted the bird to know him, even if  
the bird had to consume his blood to make that happen.

"He began to see that the falcon was beautiful, that its slim wings were built for the speed of flight, that it was  
strong and swift, fierce and gentle. When it dived to the ground, it moved like light. When it learned to circle  
and come to his wrist, he nearly shouted with delight. Sometimes the bird would hop to his shoulder and put its beak in his hair. He knew his falcon loved him, and when he was certain it was not just tamed but perfectly tamed, he went to his father and showed him what he had done, expecting him to be proud.

"Instead his father took the bird, now tame and trusting, in his hands and broke its neck. 'I told you to make it obedient,' his father said, and dropped the falcon's lifeless body to the ground. 'Instead, you taught it to love you. Falcons are not meant to be loving pets: They are fierce and wild, savage and cruel. This bird was not tamed; it was broken.'

"Later, when his father left him, the boy cried over his pet, until eventually his father sent a servant to take the  
body of the bird away and bury it. The boy never cried again, and he never forgot what he'd learned: that to  
love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed."

Clary, who had been lying still, rolled onto her back and opened her eyes, staring at him. "That's an awful  
story," she said.

Jace had his legs pulled up, his chin on his knees. "Is it?" he said ruminatively.

"The boy's father is horrible. It's a story about child abuse. I should have known that's what Shadowhunters  
think a bedtime story is like. Anything that gives you screaming nightmares-"

"Sometimes the Marks can give you screaming nightmares," said Jace. "If you get them when you're too  
young." He looked at her thoughtfully.

The late afternoon light came in through the curtains and made his face  
a study in contrasts.

"It's a good story if you think about it," he said. "The boy's father is just trying to make him stronger. Inflexible."

"But you have to learn to bend a little," said Clary, yawning. So his story had tired her. "Or you'll break."

"Not if you're strong enough," said Jace firmly, but quietly, too, because he could see her slipping out of consciousness He reached out, and brushed her cheek gently with the back of his hand. Her eyes were slipping shut. She looked exhausted but peaceful as she fell into sleep.

"Jace," she mumbled, and she was silent. He pulled the cover around her and resisted the temptation, which was strangely great, to kiss her forehead. He silently got up from the bed and clicked of the lamp by hear bed before slowly closing the door behind him on his was out.

Jace and Alec were waiting in the entryway for the girls. The mundane kept glancing at his watch as if he was _worried_ we would be late. They were wearing black, even the mundie, looking rediculuos in a slightly too-big  
pair of black pants and his own shirt turned inside out to hide the band logo. He was standing  
uncomfortably to the side while Jace and Alec slouched together against the wall, bored. Jace didn't glanced up as Isabelle strode into the entryway, her gold whip coiled around her wrist, her metal ankle chains  
chiming like bells.

"What is that?" The mundie demanded, straightening up from the wall. "That you're wearing, I mean."

Jace looked up to see Clary look down at herself, confused. His eyes automatically widened before he could control his reaction as he looked he over, too. She'd thrown a light jacket on and wore her  
backpack hanging off one shoulder.

"It's a dress, Simon," Clary said dryly. "I know I don't wear them that much, but really."

"It's so short," he said in confusion and Jace snorted.

"I like the dress," he said, unhitching himself from the wall. His eyes ran up and down her lazily, like the  
stroking paws of a cat. "It needs a little something extra, though."

"So now you're a fashion expert?" Her voice came out unevenly, and he heard it, smiling slightly He was standing very close to her, close enough to send his heart into a slight frenzy.

He took a dagger out of his jacket and handed it to her. It was a long thin dagger in a leather sheath. The hilt  
of the dagger was set with a single red stone carved in the shape of a rose.

She shook her head. "I wouldn't even know how to use that-"  
He pressed it into her hand, curling her fingers around it. "You'd learn." He dropped his voice. "It's in your  
blood."

She drew her hand back slowly. "All right."

"I could give you a thigh sheath to put that in," Isabelle offered. "I've got tons."

"CERTAINLY NOT," said the mundie.

Clary shot him an irritated look. "Thanks, but I'm not really a thigh sheath kind of girl." She slid the dagger  
into the outside pocket on her backpack.

She looked up and met Jace's eyes._ She was beautiful_, he thought "And one last thing," he said.  
He reached over slowly, not wanting her to pull back, and pulled the sparkling pins out of her hair, so that it fell in curls down her  
neck.

"Much better," he said, and as much as he tried to keep it indifferent, his voice was slightly uneven too.

**Dont forget! Rate! Review! Favorite! Follow! And most important watch out tomorrow for part 2.**


	11. Magnus' Party (part 2)

**Hey,**

**This is Part 2 of "Magnus Bane's Party" (the last chapter) that some of you requested so here it is! **

**Also, by request, I will be posting Clary & Sebastian's 1st kiss in COG, Sebastian's POV , either later today or tomorrow.**

**Enjoy,**

**xoxoKaylaMariexoxo**

12  
Dead Man's Party

The directions on the invitation led them to a largely  
industrial neighborhood in Brooklyn whose streets were lined with factories and warehouses.

They made their way from the subway station, Isabelle navigating with the Sensor, which seemed to have a  
sort of mapping system built in. Simon was pretending it was  
the Sensor he was fascinated with. Jace slowed down to walk beside Clary as she fell behind, looking around.  
"Keep up," he said in an iritated voice, though he wasn't, really. "I don't  
want to have to keep looking behind me to make sure nothing's happened to you."

"So don't bother."

"Last time I left you alone, a demon attacked you," he pointed out.

"Well, I'd certainly hate to interrupt your pleasant night stroll with my sudden death."

He blinked, startled at her mood. "There is a fine line between sarcasm and outright hostility, and you seem to have crossed it.  
What's up?"

She looked at him uncertianly, bitting her lip. "This morning, weird creepy guys dug around in my brain. Now I'm going to meet the weird  
creepy guy who originally dug around in my brain. What if I don't like what he finds?"

"What makes you think you won't?" He asked, though he understood.

"I hate it when you answer a question with a question."

Jace smirked, "No you don't, you think it's charming. Anyway, wouldn't you rather know the truth?"

"No. I mean, maybe. I don't know." She sighed. "Would you?" She turned to look at him with her mesmerizing, emerald green eyes. He was about to respond when Isabelle yelled from ahead of them, walking beside Alec.

"This is the right street!" They were on a narrow avenue lined with old warehouses, though most now bore the signs of human residence: window boxes filled with flowers, lace curtains blowing in the clammy night breeze, numbered plastic trash cans stacked on the sidewalk.

Jace's reached up and brushed his ringers along her shoulder. "Absolutely. Always," he murmured, answering her question.

She looked sideways at him, confused. "What?"

"The truth," he said. "I would-"

"Jace!" It was Alec. He was standing on the pavement, not far away.

Jace turned, his hand falling away from Clary's shoulder. "Yes?" He asked, slightly annoyed.  
"Think we're in the right place?" Alec was pointing at something he couldn't see.

What's that?" Jace joined Alec, his annoyance vanishing as his eyes fell on what Alec was pointing at. He laughed.

They were several motorcycles, sleek and silvery, with low-slung black chassis.  
Oily-looking tubes and pipes slithered up and around them, ropy as veins. There was a queasy sense of  
something organic about the bikes, like the bio-creatures in a Giger painting.

"Vampires," Jace said.

"They look like motorcycles to me," said Simon, joining them with Isabelle at his side. I bit back a sarcastic reply.

Isabelle frowned at the bikes. "They are, but they've been altered to run on demon energies," she explained. "Vampires use them-it  
lets them get around fast at night. It's not strictly Covenant, but..."

"I've heard some of the bikes can fly," said Alec eagerly. "Or go invisible at the flick of a switch. Or operate under water."

Jace had jumped down off the curb and was circling the bikes, examining them. He reached out a hand and stroked one of the bikes along the sleek chassis. It had words painted along the side, in silver: nox invictus.

"Victorious night," he translated.

Alec was looking at him strangely. "What are you doing?"

Jace slide his hand back inside his jacket. "Nothing."

"Well, hurry up," said Isabelle. "I didn't get this dressed up to watch you mess around in the gutter with a bunch of motorcycles."

"They are pretty to look at," said Jace, hopping back up on the pavement. "You have to admit that."

"So am I," said Isabelle, who didn't look inclined to admit anything. "Now hurry up."

Jace looked at Clary. "This building," he said, pointing at the red brick warehouse. "Is this the one?"

She sighed, _She looks scared._ "I think so," she said uncertainly. "They all look the same."

"One way to find out," said Isabelle, mounting the steps.

The rest of them followed, crowding close to one another in the foul-smelling entryway. A naked bulb hung from a cord overhead, illuminating a large metal-bound door and a row of apartment buzzers along the left wall. Only one had a name written over it: bane.

_Looks like we're in the right place._

Isabelle pressed the buzzer. Nothing happened. She pressed it again. She reached out to press it a third time  
when Alec caught her wrist. "Don't be rude," he said.

She glared at him. "Alec-"

The door flew open.  
A tall, slender man standing in the doorway regarded them curiously. It was Isabelle who recovered herself first. "Magnus? Magnus Bane?"

"That would be me." The man blocking the doorway was as tall and thin as a rail, his hair a crown of dense  
black spikes.

From the curve of his eyes and the gold tone of his evenly tanned skin, Jace figured he was part Asian. He wore jeans and a black shirt covered with dozens of metal buckles. His eyes were crusted with a raccoon mask of charcoal glitter, his lips painted a dark shade of blue. He raked a ring-laden hand through his spiked hair and regarded them thoughtfully.

"Children of the Nephilim," he said. "Well, well. I don't recall inviting you."

Jace seethed at the word _childern_, but didn't say anything.

Isabelle took out her invitation and waved it like a white flag. "I have an invitation. These"-she indicated the  
rest of the group with a grand wave of her arm-"are my friends."

Magnus plucked the invitation out of her hand and looked at it with fastidious distaste. "I must have been  
drunk," he said. He threw the door open. "Come in. And try not to murder any of my guests."

Jace edged into the doorway, sizing up Magnus with his eyes. "Even if one of them spills a drink on my new  
shoes?"  
"Even then." Magnus's hand shot out, so fast it was barely a blur. He plucked the stele out of Jace's  
hand before Jace could pull it back and held it up. Jace was slightly abashed.

"As for this," Magnus said, sliding it into Jace's jeans pocket, "keep it in your pants, Shadowhunter."

Magnus grinned and started up the stairs, leaving Jace surprised and holding the door.

"Come on," he said, waving the rest of them inside. "Before anyone thinks it's my party."

They pushed past Jace, laughing nervously. Only Isabelle stopped to shake her head.

"Try not to piss him off, please. Then he won't help us."

Jace was bored, unworried that such thing would happen. "I know what I'm doing."

"I hope so." Isabelle flounced past him in a swirl of skirts.

Magnus's apartment was at the top of a long flight of rickety stairs. The mundie ran past Jace to walk beside Clary. Jace could hear them talking ahead of him. Simon said something and Clary laughed out loud.

Isabelle came to stand beside her. "Am I missing something funny? Simon?"

The mundie looked embarrassed, but said nothing.

Clary muttered, "You're not missing anything," and dropped behind them.

They walked into Magnus' apartment together

The loft was huge and almost totally empty of furniture. Floor-to-ceiling windows were smeared with a thick  
film of dirt and paint, blocking out most of the ambient light from the street. Big metal pillars wound with  
colored lights held up an arched, sooty ceiling. Doors torn off their hinges and laid across dented metal  
garbage cans made a makeshift bar at one end of the room. A lilac-skinned woman in a metallic bustier was  
ranging drinks along the bar in tall, harshly colored glasses that tinted the fluid inside them: blood red,  
cyanosis blue, poison green. Even for a New York bartender she worked with an amazingly speedy  
efficiency-probably helped along by the fact that she had a second set of long, graceful arms to go with the first.

Jace and Alec lost Clary in the croud. Jace turned to see her standing beside Magnus, they looked like they were talking. Jace turned to motion to Alec to follow him. Jace was wearing a strand of tiny glowing flowers around his neck.

"Where are Simon and Isabelle?" Clary asked him.

"On the dance floor." He pointed to them on the edge of the packed square of bodies.

"Look," Jace said, turning to Magnus, "we really need to talk to-"

"MAGNUS BANE!" The deep, booming voice belonged to a surprisingly short man who looked to be in his  
early thirties. He was compactly muscular, with a bald head shaved smooth and a pointed goatee. He leveled a  
trembling finger at Magnus."Someone just poured holy water into the gas tank on my bike. It's ruined. Destroyed. All the pipes are melted."

Jace held back a laugh.

"Melted?" murmured Magnus. "How dreadful."

"I want to know who did it." The man bared his teeth, showing long pointed canines.

"I thought you swore there'd be no wolf-men here tonight,Bane."

"I invited none of the Moon's Children," Magnus said, examining his glittery nails. "Precisely because of your  
stupid little feud. If any of them decided to sabotage your bike, they weren't a guest of mine, and are therefore  
..." He offered a winsome smile. "Not my responsibility."

The vampire roared with rage, jabbing his finger toward Magnus. "Are you trying to tell me that-"  
Magnus's glitter-coated index finger twitched. Mid-roar the vampire gagged and clutched at his throat. His mouth worked, but no sound came  
out.

"You've worn out your welcome," Magnus said lazily, opening his eyes very wide."Now go." He splayed the fingers of his hand, and the  
vampire turned as smartly as if someone had grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. He marched back into the crowd, heading toward the door.

Jace whistled under his breath. "That was impressive."

"You mean that little hissy fit?" Magnus cast his eyes toward the ceiling. "I know. What is his problem?"

Alec laughed, though it sounded more like he was choking. "We put the holy water in his gas tank, you know," he said.

"ALEC," said Jace. "Shut up."

"I assumed that," said Magnus, looking amused. "Vindictive little bastards, aren't you? You know their bikes  
run on demon energies. I doubt he'll be able to repair it."

"One less leech with a fancy ride," said Jace, sarcasm leaking into his voice. "My heart bleeds."

"I heard some of them can make their bikes fly," put in Alec, who looked animated for once. He was almost smiling.

"Merely an old witches' tale," said Magnus, his cat's eyes glittering. "So is that why you wanted to crash my  
party? Just to wreck some bloodsucker bikes?"

"No." Jace was all business again. "We need to talk to you. Preferably somewhere private."

"Am I in trouble with the Clave?"

"No," said Jace, preferring to not get into details here.

"Probably not," said Alec. "Ow!" He glared at Jace, who had kicked him sharply in the ankle.

"No," Jace repeated. "We can talk to you under the seal of the Covenant. If you help us, anything you say will  
be confidential."

"And if I don't help you?"

Jace spread his hands wide. The rune tattoos on his palms stood out stark and black. "Maybe nothing. Maybe  
a visit from the Silent City."

Magnus's voice was honey poured over shards of ice. "That's quite a choice you're offering me, little  
Shadowhunter."

"It's no choice at all," said Jace.

"Yes," said the warlock. "That's exactly what I meant."

Magnus's bedroom was a riot of color: canary-yellow sheets and bedspread draped over a mattress on the  
floor, electric-blue vanity table strewn with more pots of paint and makeup than Isabelle's. Rainbow velvet  
curtains hid the floor-to-ceiling windows, and a tangled wool rug covered the floor.

"Nice place," said Jace, drawing aside a heavy swag of curtain. "Guess it pays well, being the High Warlock  
of Brooklyn?"  
"It pays," Magnus said. "Not much of a benefit package, though. No dental." He shut the door behind him and  
leaned against it. When he crossed his arms, his T-shirt rode up, showing a strip of flat golden stomach  
unmarked by a navel."So," he said. "What's on your devious little minds?"

"It's not them, actually," Clary said, speaking before Jace could reply. "I'm the one who wanted to talk to you."

Magnus turned his inhuman eyes on her. "You are not one of them," he said. "Not of the Clave. But you can  
see the Invisible World."

"My mother was one of the Clave," Clary said. It was the first time she had said it out loud and known it to be  
true. "But she never told me. She kept it a secret. I don't know why."

"So ask her."

"I can't. She's ..." Clary hesitated. "She's gone."

"And your father?"

"He died before I was born."

Magnus exhaled irritably. "As Oscar Wilde once said, 'To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune.  
To lose both looks like carelessness.'"

Jace made a small hissing sound, sucking air through his teeth.

She said, "I didn't lose my mother. She was taken from me. By Valentine."

"I don't know any Valentine," said Magnus, but his eyes flickered like wavering candle flames, he was lying. "I'm sorry for your tragic circumstances, but I fail to see what any of this has to do with me. If you could tell me-"

"She can't tell you, because she doesn't remember," Jace said sharply, tired of the time- consuming games. "Someone erased her memories. So we went to the Silent City to see what the Brothers could pull out of her head. They got two words. I think you can guess what they were."

There was a short silence. Finally, Magnus let his mouth turn up at the corner. His smile was bitter. "My signature," he said. "I knew it was folly when I did it. An act of hubris ..."

"You signed my mind?" Clary said, disbelief coloring her tone.

Magnus raised his hand, tracing the fiery outlines of letters against the air. When he dropped his hand, they  
hung there, hot and golden, making the painted lines of his eyes and mouth burn with reflected light, _Magnus Bane._

"I was proud of my work on you," he said slowly, looking at Clary. "So clean. So perfect. What you saw you would forget, even as you saw it. No image of pixie or goblin or long-legged beastie would remain to trouble your blameless mortal sleep. It was the way she wanted it."

Clary's voice was quiet. "The way who wanted it?" But Jace knew the answer.

Magnus sighed, and at the touch of his breath, the fire-letters sifted away to glowing ash. Finally he  
spoke,

"Your mother," he said.

**There's one more part to this because it was so long but that'll be up today definitely. Review, Review, Review! **

**xoxoKaylaMariexoxo**


	12. Magnus' Party (part 3)

**I know, I know! It's been too long but I made this chapter EXTRA long for you so hope I am forgiven. I promise though I'll try to get up the chapters faster but sometimes it might be a few days. Don't hate me too much. **

**As always, enjoy.**

**xoxoKaylaMariexoxo**

13  
The Memory of Whiteness

"My mother did this to me?" Clary demanded but her surprised anger didn't sound real to Jace, like maybe she guessed it like he, and Alec it seems by the look of pity in his eyes. "Why?"

"I don't know." Magnus spread his long white hands. "It's not my job to ask questions. I do what I get paid to  
do."

"Within the bounds of the Covenant," Jace reminded him, his voice soft.

Magnus inclined his head. "Within the bounds of the Covenant, of course."

"So the Covenant's all right with this-this mind-rape?" Clary asked with a scowl on her face. When no one answered, she sank  
down on the edge of Magnus's bed. "Was it only once? Was there something specific she wanted me to forget?  
Do you know what it was?"

Magnus paced restlessly to the window. "I don't think you understand. The first time I ever saw you, you must  
have been about two years old. I was watching out this window"-he tapped the glass, freeing a shower of dust  
and paint chips- "and I saw her hurrying up the street, holding something wrapped in a blanket. I was surprised  
when she stopped at my door. She looked so ordinary, so young."

The moonlight touched his hawkish profile with silver. Jace watched Clary as she tried to close her emotions off. "She unwrapped the blanket when she came in my door. You were inside it. She set you down on the floor and you started ranging around, picking things up,  
pulling my cat's tail-you screamed like a banshee when the cat scratched you, so I asked your mother if  
youwere part banshee. She didn't laugh." He paused.

They were all watching him intently now, even Alec. "She told me she was a Shadowhunter. There was no point in her lying about it; Covenant Marks show up, even when they've faded with time, like faint silver scars against the skin. They flickered when she moved."

He rubbed at the glitter makeup around his eyes, and Jace's eyes flicked over to his. "She told me she'd hoped you'd been born with a blind Inner Eye-some Shadowhunters have to be taught to see the Shadow World. But she'd caught you that afternoon,  
teasing a pixie trapped in a hedge. She knew you could see. So she asked me if it was possible to blind you of the Sight."

Clary made a little noise, a pained exhalation of breath, and Jace's whole body froze as he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms. Magnus went on remorselessly.

"I told her that crippling that part of your mind might leave you damaged, possibly insane. She didn't cry. She  
wasn't the sort of woman who weeps easily, your mother. She asked me if there was another way, and I told  
her you could be made to forget those parts of the Shadow World that you could see, even as you saw them.  
The only caveat was that she'd have to come to me every two years as the results of the spell began to fade."

"And did she?" asked Clary.

Magnus nodded. "I've seen you every two years since that first time-I've watched you grow up. You're the  
only child I have ever watched grow up that way, you know. In my business one isn't generally that welcome  
around human children."  
"So you recognized Clary when we walked in," Jace said, trying to keep his voice indifferent. "You must have."

"Of course I did." Magnus sounded exasperated. "And it was a shock, too. But what would you have done?  
She didn't know me. She wasn't supposed to know me. Just the fact that she was here meant the spell had started to fade-and in fact, we were due for another visit about a month ago. I even came by your house when I got back from Tanzania, but Jocelyn said that you two had had a fight and you'd run off. She said she'd call on me when you came back, but"-an elegant shrug-"she never did."

Jace watched Clary's face as she processed what he said and a look of startled recognition fell upon her face.

"You were there, that day," Clary said. "I saw you coming out of Dorothea's  
apartment. I remember your eyes."

Magnus looked as if he might purr. "I'm memorable, it's true," he gloated, Jace snorted quietly. The Warlock shook his head. "You  
shouldn't remember me," he said. "I threw up a glamour as hard as a wall as soon as I saw you. You should have run right into it face-first-psychically speaking."

Clary paused hesetently before speaking, "If you take the spell off me, will I be able to remember all the things I've forgotten? All the  
memories you stole?"

"I can't take it off you." Magnus looked uncomfortable.

"What?" Jace demanded, furious. "Why not? The Clave requires you-"

Magnus looked at him coldly, cutting Jace off. "I don't like being told what to do, little Shadowhunter."

Jace seethed, disliking being referred to as "little," but before he could snap out a reply,  
Alec spoke.

His voice was soft, thoughtful. "Don't you know how to reverse it?" he asked. "The spell, I mean."

Magnus sighed. "Undoing a spell is a great deal more difficult than creating it in the first place. The intricacy  
of this one, the care I put into weaving it-if I made even the smallest mistake in unraveling it, her mind could  
be damaged forever. Besides," he added, "it's already begun to fade. The effects will vanish over time on their own."

Jace watched Clary as her head snapped up to look at Magnus. "Will I get all my memories back then? Whatever was taken out of my head?"

"I don't know. They might come back all at once, or in stages. Or you might never remember what you've  
forgotten over the years. What your mother asked me to do was unique, in my experience. I've no idea what will happen."

"But I don't want to wait." Clary folded her hands tightly in her lap, her fingers clamped together. "All my life I've felt like there was something wrong with me. Something missing or damaged. Now I know-"

"I didn't damage you." It was Magnus's interruptted, his lips curled back angrily to show sharp white  
teeth. "Every teenager in the world feels like that, feels broken or out of place, different somehow, royalty  
mistakenly born into a family of peasants. The difference in your case is that it's true. You are different. Maybe  
not better-but different. And it's no picnic being different. You want to know what it's like when your parents  
are good churchgoing folk and you happen to be born with the devil's mark?" He pointed at his eyes, fingers  
splayed. "When your father flinches at the sight of you and your mother hangs herself in  
the barn, driven mad by what she's done? When I was ten, my father tried to drown me in the creek. I lashed  
out at him with everything I had-burned him where he stood. I went to the fathers of the church eventually, for  
sanctuary. They hid me. They say that pity's a bitter thing, but it's better than hate. When I found out what I  
was really, only half a human being, I hated myself. Anything's better than that."

There was silence when Magnus was done speaking. Even Jace didn't have a smart remark to make. It was Alec who broke the silence. "It wasn't your fault," he said. "You can't help how you're born."

Magnus's expression was closed. "I'm over it," he said. "I think you get my point. Different isn't better, Clarissa. Your mother was trying to protect you. Don't throw it back in her face."

Clary's form seemed to relax when he said that. "I don't care if I'm different," she said. "I just want to be who I really am."

Magnus swore. "All right. Listen. I can't undo what I've done, but I can give you something else. A piece of what would have been yours if you'd been raised a true child of the Nephilim."

He stalked across the room to the bookcase and dragged down a heavy volume bound in rotting green velvet. He flipped through the pages, shedding dust and bits of blackened cloth. The pages were thin, almost translucent eggshell parchment, each marked with a stark black rune.

Jace's eyebrows went up, surprise flooding through him. "Is that a copy of the Gray Book?"

Magnus, feverishly flipping pages, said nothing.

"Hodge has one," Alec observed. "He showed it to me once."

"It's not gray," Clary pointed out. "It's green."

Jace snorted. "If there was such a thing as terminal literalism, you'd have died in childhood," He said, brushing dust off  
the windowsill and eyeing it considering whether it was clean enough to sit on. "Gray is short for  
'Gramarye.' It means 'magic, hidden wisdom.' In it is copied every rune the Angel Raziel wrote in the original  
Book of the Covenant. There aren't many copies because each one has to be specially made. Some of the runes are so powerful they'd burn through regular pages."

Alec looked impressed. "I didn't know all that."

Jace hopped up on the windowsill and swung his legs. "Not all of us sleep through history lessons."

"I do not-"

"Oh, yes you do, and drool on the desk besides."

"Shut up," said Magnus, but he said it quite mildly. He hooked his finger between two pages of the book and came over to Clary, setting it carefully in her lap. "Now, when I open the book, I want you to study the page. Look at it until you feel something change inside your mind."

"Will it hurt?" Clary asked nervously.

"All knowledge hurts," he replied, and stood up, letting the book fall open onto Clary's lap. Jace and the rest of the room was quiet as he wathed Clary stare at the runes on the page.

With a little sigh she turned to the next page, and the next and then cried out in surprise as Magnus snatched the book off her lap.

"That's enough," he said, sliding it back onto its shelf. He dusted his hands off on his colorful pants, leaving  
streaks of gray. "If you read all the runes at once, you'll give yourself a headache."

"But-"

"Most Shadowhunter children grow up learning one rune at a time over a period of years," said Jace, interrupting her. "The Gray Book contains runes even I don't know."  
"Imagine that," said Magnus, and Jace glared at him but otherwise ignored him. "Magnus showed you the rune for understanding and remembrance. It opens your mind up to reading and recognizing the rest of the Marks."

"It also may serve as a trigger to activate dormant memories," said Magnus. "They could return to you more quickly than they would otherwise. It's the best I can do."

Clary looked down at her lap. "I still don't remember anything about the Mortal Cup."

"Is that what this is about?" Magnus sounded astonished. "You're after the Angel's Cup? Look, I've been through your memories. There was nothing in them about the Mortal Instruments."

"Mortal Instruments?" Clary echoed, bewildered. "I thought-"

"The Angel gave three items to the first Shadowhunters. A cup, a sword, and a mirror. The Silent  
Brothers have the sword; the cup and the mirror were in Idris, at least until Valentine came along."

"Nobody knows where the mirror is," said Alec. "Nobody's known for ages."

"It's the Cup that concerns us," said Jace. "Valentine's looking for it."

"And you want to get to it before he does?" Magnus asked, his eyebrows winging upward.

"I thought you said you didn't know who Valentine was?" Clary pointed out.

"I lied," Magnus admitted candidly. "I'm not one of the fey, you know. I'm not required to be truthful.  
And only a fool would get between Valentine and his revenge."

"Is that what you think he's after? Revenge?" said Jace.

"I would guess so. He suffered a grave defeat, and he hardly seemed-seems-the type of man to suffer defeat gracefully."

Alec looked harder at Magnus. "Were you at the Uprising?"

Magnus's eyes locked with Alec's. "I was. I killed a number of your folk."

"Circle members," said Jace quickly, not wanting to be associate's with the _circle_. "Not ours-"

"If you insist on disavowing that which is ugly about what you do," said Magnus, still looking at Alec,  
"you will never learn from your mistakes."

Alec, plucking at the coverlet with one hand, flushed an unhappy red. "You don't seem surprised to hear  
that Valentine's still alive," he said, avoiding Magnus's gaze.

Magnus spread his hands wide. "Are you?"

Jace opened his mouth, then closed it again. He was baffled. Eventually, he said, "So you  
won't help us find the Mortal Cup?"

"I wouldn't if I could," said Magnus, "which, by the way, I can't. I've no idea where it is, and I don't care  
to know. Only a fool, as I said."

Alec sat up straighter. "But without the Cup, we can't-"

"Make more of you. I know," said Magnus and Jace's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps not everyone regards that as quite the disaster that you  
do. Mind you," he added, "if I had to choose between the Clave and Valentine, I would choose the Clave. At  
least they're not actually sworn to wipe out my kind. But nothing the Clave has done has earned my  
unswerving loyalty either. So no, I'll sit this one out. Now if we're done here, I'd like to get back to my party before any of the guests eat each other."  
Jace was clenching and unclenching his hands, about to say something furious, but  
Alec, standing up, put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing rather hard.

"Is that likely?" he asked.

Magnus was looking at him with some amusement. "It's happened before."

Jace turned to Alec, "I'm fine." Alec let go of his shoulder. Detaching himself, he came over to Clary.

"Are you all right?" he asked in a low voice.

"I think so. I don't feel any different..."

Magnus, standing by the door, snapped his fingers impatiently. "Move it along, teenagers. The only  
person who gets to canoodle in my bedroom is my magnificent self."

"Canoodle?" repeated Clary.

"Magnificent?" repeated Jace, who was just being nasty.

Magnus growled. "Get out."

They got, Magnus trailing behind them as he paused to lock the bedroom door.

"I hate faerie bands," Magnus muttered as the musicians segued into another haunting song, the melody as  
delicate and translucent as rock crystal. "All they ever play is mopey ballads."

Jace, glancing around the room, laughed. "Where's Isabelle?"  
He looked over as Clary spun around, looking for Isabelle he guessed.

_More like that mundane of her's, _Jace thought bitterly.

"I don't see him. Them, I mean."

_Lucky guess? I think not..._

"There she is." Alec spotted his sister and waved her over, looking relieved. "Over here. And watch out  
for the phouka."

"Watch out for the phouka?" Jace repeated, glancing toward a thin brown-skinned man in a green paisley vest who eyed Isabelle thoughtfully as she walked by.

"He pinched me when I passed him earlier," Alec said stiffly. "In a highly personal area."

"I hate to break it to you, but if he's interested in your highly personal areas, he probably isn't interested in  
your sister's."

"Not necessarily," said Magnus. "Faeries aren't particular."

Jace curled his lip scornfully in the warlock's direction. "You still here?"

Before Magnus could reply, Isabelle was on top of them, looking pink-faced and blotchy and smelling  
strongly of alcohol. "Jace! Alec! Where have you been? I've been looking all over-"

"Where's Simon?" Clary interrupted. Jace rolled his eyes.

Isabelle wobbled. "He's a rat," she said darkly.

"Did he do something to you?" Alec was full of brotherly concern. "Did he touch you? If he tried  
anything-"

"No, Alec," Isabelle said irritably. "Not like that. He's arat."

"She's drunk," said Jace, beginning to turn away in disgust.

"I'm not," Isabelle said indignantly. "Well, maybe a little, but that's not the point. The point is, Simon  
drank one of those blue drinks-I told him not to, but he didn't listen-and heturned into a rat."

"A rat?" Clary repeated incredulously. "You don't mean..."

"I mean a rat," Isabelle said. "Little. Brown. Scaly tail."

"The Clave isn't going to like this," said Alec dubiously. "I'm pretty sure turning mundanes into rats is against the Law."

"Technically she didn't turn him into a rat," Jace pointed out. "The worst she could be accused of is negligence."

"Who cares about the stupid Law?" Clary screamed, grabbing hold of Isabelle's wrist. "My best friend is a rat!"

"Ouch!" Isabelle tried to pull her wrist back. "Let go of me!"

"Not until you tell me where he is." She'd never wanted to smack anyone as much as she wanted to smack  
Isabelle right at that moment. "I can't believe you just left him-he's probably terrified-"

"If he hasn't been stepped on," Jace pointed out unhelpfully, not personally caring of the mundanes fate.

"I didn't leave him. He ran under the bar," Isabelle protested, pointing. "Let go! You're denting my bracelet."

"Bitch," Clary said savagely, and flung a surprised-looking Isabelle's hand back at her, hard. She didn't stop  
for a reaction; she was running toward the bar. Dropping to her knees, she peered into the dark space under it.

Jace and the others arrived to where Clary was crouching by the bar.

"Is he under there?"Jace asked curiously.  
Clary, still on her hands and knees, nodded. "Shh. You'll frighten him off." She pushed her fingers gingerly  
under the edge of the bar, and wiggled them. "Please come out, Simon. We'll get Magnus to reverse the spell. It'll be okay."

Jace heard a squeak, and the rat's pink nose poked out from beneath the bar. With an exclamation of relief, Clary seized the rat in her hands. "Simon! You understood me!"

The rat, huddled in the hollow of her palms, squeaked glumly. She hugged him to her chest. "Oh,  
poor baby," she crooned, almost as if he really were a pet. "Poor Simon, it'll be fine, I promise-"

"I wouldn't feel too sorry for him," Jace said. "That's probably the closest he's ever gotten to second base."

"Shut up!" Clary glared at Jace furiously, but she did loosen her grip on the rat, making Jace smirk.

"Get Magnus," she said sharply. "We have to turn him back."

"Let's not be hasty." Jace's smirk widening into a full-out grin. He reached toward Simon as if he meant to pethim. "He's cute like that. Look at his little pink nose."

Simon bared long yellow teeth at Jace and made a snapping motion. Jace pulled his outstretched hand back. "Izzy, go fetch our magnificent host."

"Why me?" Isabelle looked petulant.

"Because it's your fault the mundane's a rat, idiot," he said. "And we can't leave him here."

"You'd be happy to leave him if it weren't for her," Isabelle said, managing to inject the single syllable word  
with enough venom to poison an elephant. She stalked off, her skirt flouncing around her hips.

"I can't believe she let you drink that blue drink," Clary said to the rat. "Now you see what you get for being so shallow."

Simon squeaked irritably. Magnus came over and leaned over Clary, looking at the rat now, too.

Isabelle stood behind him, her expression furious."Rattus norvegicus," said Magnus, peering at Simon. "A common brown rat, nothing exotic."

"I don't care what kind of rat he is," Clary said crossly. "I want him turned back."

Magnus scratched his head thoughtfully, shedding glitter. "No point," he said.

"That's what I said." Jace said, pleased.

"NO POINT?" Clary shouted, so loudly that the rat hid his head under her thumb. "HOW CAN YOU  
SAY THERE'S NO POINT?"

"Because he'll turn back on his own in a few hours," said Magnus. "The effect of the cocktails is temporary.  
No point working up a transformation spell; it'll just traumatize him. Too much magic is hard on mundanes, their systems aren't used to it."

"I doubt his system is used to being a rat, either," Clary pointed out. "You're a warlock, can't you just reverse the spell?"

Magnus considered. "No," he said.

"You mean you won't."

"Not for free, darling, and you can't afford me."

"I can't take a rat home on the subway either," Clary said plaintively. "I'll drop him, or one of the MTA  
police will arrest me for transporting pests on the transit system." Simon chirped his annoyance. "Not that you're a pest, of course."

A girl who had been shouting by the door was now joined by six or seven others. The sound of angry voices rose above the hum of the party and the strains of the music. Magnus rolled his eyes. "Excuse me,"  
he said, backing into the crowd, which closed behind him instantly.

Isabelle, wobbling on her sandals, expelled a gusty sigh. "So much for his help."

"You know," Alec said, "you could always put the rat in your backpack."

Clary looked at him hard but shrugged off her pack. She found a hiding place for the small brown rat that had once been Simon, nestled between her rolled-up sweater and her sketchpad. "I'm sorry," she said miserably.

"Don't bother," Jace said. "Why mundanes always insist on taking responsibility for things that aren't their fault is a mystery to me. You didn't force that cocktail down his idiotic throat."

"If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have been here at all," Clary said in a small voice.

"Don't flatter yourself. He came because of Isabelle."

Angrily Clary jerked the top of the bag closed and stood up. "Let's get out of here. I'm sick of this place."

The tight knot of shouting people by the door turned out to be more vampires, easily recognizable by the  
pallor of their skin and the dead blackness of their hair. They were loudly complaining  
about their vandalized motorbikes and the fact that some of their friends were missing and unaccounted for.  
"They're probably drunk and passed out somewhere," Magnus said, waving long white fingers in a bored  
manner. "You know how you lot tend to turn into bats and piles of dust when you've downed a few too many Bloody Marys."

"They mix their vodka with real blood," Jace said in Clary's ear, and he could feel her shiver in response.

"Yes, I got that, thanks."

"We can't go around picking up every pile of dust in the place just in case it turns out to be Gregor in the morning," said a girl with a sulky mouth and painted-on eyebrows.

"Gregor will be fine. I rarely sweep," soothed Magnus. "I'm happy to send any stragglers back to the hotel

come tomorrow-in a car with blacked-out windows, of course."

"But what about our motorbikes?" said a thin boy whose blond roots showed under his bad dye job. A gold earring in the shape of a stake hung from his left earlobe. "It'll take hours to fix them."

"You've got until sunrise," said Magnus, temper visibly fraying. "I suggest you get started." He raised his  
voice. "All right, that's IT! Party's over! Everybody out!" He waved his arms, shedding glitter.

With a single loud twang the band ceased playing. A drone of loud complaint rose from the partygoers, but  
they moved obediently toward the doorway. None of them stopped to thank Magnus for the party.

"Come on." Jace pushed Clary toward the exit. The crowd was dense. Jace heard Clary yelp and move sideways as someone bumped her shoulder, and was moved away from Jace. He made his way through the crowd to place himself beside her again as he saw a vampire slide his hand across her bag and speak to her. "Hey, pretty thing," he said. "What's in the bag?"

"Holy water," said Jace, reappearing beside her.

"Oooh, a Shadowhunter," said the vampire. "Scary." With a wink he melted back into the crowd.

"Vampires are such prima donnas," Magnus sighed from the doorway. "Honestly, I don't know why I have these parties."

"Because of your cat," Clary reminded him.

Magnus perked up. "That's true. Chairman Meow deserves my every effort." He glanced at her and the tight knot of Shadowhunters just behind her. "You on your way out?"

Jace nodded. "Don't want to overstay our welcome."

"What welcome?" Magnus asked. "I'd say it was a pleasure to meet you, but it wasn't. Not that you aren't all  
fairly charming, and as for you-" He dropped a glittery wink at Alec, who looked astounded. "Call me?"

Alec blushed and stuttered and probably would have stood there all night if Jace hadn't grasped his elbow and  
hauled him toward the door, Isabelle at their heels. Somehow on the way out Jace lost sight of Clay and waited for her outside the warehouse. Jace, hands in pockets, was leaning against the stairway railing and watching as the vampires stalked around their broken motorcycles, cursing and swearing. He had a faint smile on his face. Alec and Isabelle stood a little way off.

Jace unhitched himself from the railing as Clary emerged. He fell into step beside her, not speaking. He  
was lost in thought. Most of which about Clary, who was he kidding? All of which about Clary.

Isabelle and Alec, hurrying ahead, sounded like they were arguing with each other.

"It's not your fault," Alec was saying. He sounded weary, as if he'd been through this sort of thing with his  
sister before. Clary wondered how many boyfriends she'd turned into rats by accident. "But it ought to teach  
you not to go to so many Downworld parties," he added. "They're always more trouble than they're worth."

Isabelle sniffed loudly. "If anything had happened to him, I-I don't know what I would have done."

"Probably whatever it is you did before," said Alec in a bored voice. "It's not like you knew him all that well."

"That doesn't mean that I don't-"

"What? Love him?" Alec scoffed, raising his voice. "You need to know someone to love them."

"But that's not all it is." Isabelle sounded almost sad. "Didn't you have any fun at the party, Alec?"

"No."

"I thought you might like Magnus. He's nice, isn't he?"

"Nice?" Alec looked at her as if she were insane. "Kittens are nice. Warlocks are-" He hesitated. "Not," he finished, lamely.

"I thought you might hit it off." Isabelle's eye makeup glittered as bright as tears as she glanced over at her brother. "Get to be friends."

"I have friends," Alec said, and looked over his shoulder, almost as if he couldn't help it, at Jace. But Jace, his golden head down, still lost in thought, didn't notice.

Clary reached to open the pack and frowned. The pack was open. She groaned as she pawed through the pack, causing Jace to look at her confused. He watched as she began shoving aside clothes and sketchpad, her fingernails gathering grit. Her beautiful eyes looked up at his and she held her hand out towards him.

It was empty.

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**xoxoKaylaMariexoxo**


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